King's Hound
by ArkhamGirl
Summary: "Tell me why he's believed to be better than me!" "You are quite like a hound, wayward and impetuous." She let out a sarcastic laugh. "Impetuous... I'm bloody furious! Usually-" "However", Galahad, who hadn't finished yet, interrupted her. "hounds are also protective, highly intelligent and loyal... qualities of a true Kingsman Knight." Rated M mainly for violence
1. A Bloody Note on Broken Glass

**_Author's Note: So I went watching Kingsman a few days ago and O MY GAWD IT'S SOOOO AMAZING! GOT SUCH A LADY BONER FOR COLIN FIRTH (always have, always will ;) ) I couldn't help starting a new fanfic about that movie, although I have so many other stories to continue :/ Oh and sorry that I simply took a dialogue from the story as summary. I just suck at them..._**

**_Hope you like it!_**

**_R&amp;R PLEASE :D_**

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** A Bloody Note on Broken Glass**

The music was too quiet. The croaking noises her pathological breathing created were still drowning out the tones that were supposed to soothe her. She wanted to turn up the volume, wanted to perceive the singer's voice at full blast and the singer's voice only, not those sickening sounds coming from her throat, but reaching out failed. Her arm simply was too heavy to lift it all the way up to the dashboard, on top of which the mobile lay. Fortunately, he got the hint, almost making her smile thereby. They didn't need to speak to understand each other, didn't even need to carry out a full pointing motion, no, one look, one tiny movement was enough.

Harry pressed the little plus button at his phone until such time as the music was louder than her, wrapping his arm around the woman leaning against him immediately afterwards. He winced slightly, as he felt her clinging firmly to him once again, making the fabric of his suit - it never had felt more abrasive than in this moment - rub against the still bleeding stab in his abdomen. It burnt as hell, but since he knew that she was suffering way more severe pain, he didn't say anything, just let her find comfort in the touch.

"Everything is going to be alright, they will be here soon...", Harry kept telling her in a, hopefully, calming tone, however, his own panting didn't exactly make that easy.

Since he forbad her to speak, she just tried to give him a subtle nod, which sent another twinge to her lacerated neck. She could feel the hot blood soak the bandage on it. It probably already moistened Harry's hand he was pressing against the bullet wound as well, which was, in her opinion, almost as nasty as the sounds she created. Nevertheless, the Kingsman agent didn't mention any of it. Far too much of a gentleman, he was, far too anxious to aid her instead of himself, although he was also seriously injured.

Her chapped lips formed a smile.

Harry cared for her deeply and she was sure that this knowledge would evoke a tingling sensation in her stomach that was already so familiar to her regarding him, fill her body with a pleasant warmth.

Though, the exact contrary was the case now, as a cold wave rushed through her all of a sudden. Blinking, she desperately tried to get rid of the blackness forming in her field of vision, but her energy just kept leaving her.

Feeling her go limp in his arms, Harry looked at her with widened eyes and shook her to prevent her from losing consciousness. "Gawain! Gawain, stay with me!"

Through half-closed lids she looked up at him. There was so much to tell him yet, but the blood flowing into her throat again left her no other choice than to gather all of her strength to raise her hand and let her finger tap the car window next to her a few times, pointing at the sentence she'd written with her own blood earlier.

Harry nodded swiftly, struggling to maintain his composure. "I know, I know, we can talk about that later! They will be here soon and they will doctor you up, so stay awake, you heard me?"

She kept pointing at the red letters, managed to smile again, smile at this incredible man she'd adored for so many years now. Her breathing became slower, calmer, didn't hurt her as much as it did before.

"No, Gawain, don't you dare-"

She closed her eyes.

"GAWAIN!"


	2. Lest it May Mar your Fortunes

_**Author's Note: I went watching Kingsman AGAIN this sunday and it's still as AMAZING AS THE FIRST TIME, HOLY SHIT! O.O**_

**_Enjoy this next chap and Review please ^^_**

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**Lest it May Mar your Fortunes**

_1998, London_

Her limbs trembled. She opened her mouth wide just like her eyes, though, no sound escaped her throat and as her head fell back, she exhaled once more, before nothing but emptiness filled her look. Not the slightest move was conducted by her flaccid body anymore.

The silence that followed was cut short by a man's loud voice: "Okay, places everyone!"

The dead woman blinked, moistened her dry eyes, since keeping them open for so long made them burn fiendishly, especially when the entire stage lighting was directed at them. One of the obstacles a theatre actor had to deal with, which was why she endured every single time they rehearsed this scene.

"Vivian?"

"Victoria."

"You need to lengthen dying even more, y'know, for dramatic effect. Try it in slo-mo.", the play's director, a middle-aged man with a preposterous fluff of a beard all over his square chin, ignored her correction completely.

"Slo-mo? Wouldn't that look ridiculous in a-"

"And David,", he already turned to the adolescent next to her, not deigning to look at her anymore. "watch your steps. Get closer to her and stab her with as much force as you can. She's not made of glass."

While he spoke, Victoria desperately tried not to glare at him, rather concentrated on gathering her props, two fake pipe wrenches. She would have preferred a traditional fencing bout over this farce of a duel, however, she could most probably say good bye to this idea in a modern remake of _King Lear_ of an amateur theatre. All her suggestions for improvements - all of them thoroughly reasoned - got rejected promptly, just like now, although the whole thing was already so twisted that the original Victoria admired was hardly recognisable within it. Yes, they sometimes even changed Shakespeare's famous lines to 'make it easier to understand'.

She shouldn't complain, though. Considering that it was a really small production and she didn't even hold an all too major role - she played a transgender version of Edgar - the fee was quite impressive. In relative terms of course. It was nowhere near enough to subsist on, which was why Victoria hurried to get herself up for her second job now after rehearsals were over.

She was just back-combing her dark hair, pulling it into a tight ponytail in hopes of looking elegant enough for her boss therefore, when David, her acting partner, approached her with a smirk.

"Slo-mo, eh?"

She simply responded with a sigh.

"Can't believe you actually did it. If this pillock demanded something that stupid of me, I would've told him to fuck off and quit. Why'd you do it anyway?"

"Because I try to give 100 percent here."

He laughed. "It's just a crappy little play noone's gonna watch anyway!"

"It doesn't matter. I'm devoted to every role I'm playing. That's called professional."

"That's called bullshit.", he retorted, raising one brow at her and folding his arms in front of his chest. "I, for my part, choose to not waste my potential and energy for such a play."

He kept talking, but Victoria didn't listen anymore. He wasn't worth the ire, she already figured that out the first time they met a few weeks ago. David was the kind of actor who, despite lacking a higher education and therefore proper practice, which she was able to obtain fortunately, believed his skills to be one of a kind and, indeed, they were. One of an abysmal kind. He only aimed for awards and fame, taking advantage of his good looks, without which he certainly wouldn't be able to land one single acting job, while Victoria aimed for... Actually, she wasn't even sure what her goal concerning acting was. She simply enjoyed it. Slipping into the character of another person, going on imaginary adventures she would never be blessed with... That was what made her happy, that was what fulfilled her.

People kept telling her, in an accusing tone most of the time, she was just trying to escape normal life, though, what would be so bad about that? There were the ones who felt comfortable with the ordinary and there were the ones who didn't. Victoria belonged to the latter, which was why she constantly felt uneasy. The extraordinary tarried these days, especially in a quite secure country like the UK. Not that she wished to go on a trip to Congo or Afghanistan - she might be adventurous, but not insane - but nothing was wrong with a little excitement here and there. Acting offered her this exactly and this was why she loved it.

Unless she had to work with such arrogant, unschooled pricks like David.

"You have to change your attitude, or you'll never gonna get your dream job.", he ended his monologue. Victoria didn't reply anything, just stuck out her middle finger closely to his nose, conjuring an annoyed look on his face, and left the building.

* * *

Awkwardly, Victoria entered the house, struggling to keep her balance with all those grocery bags in her arms. Uttering a "Whoosh" she gently kicked the door close behind her. She called for her mother, didn't expect an answer, though, and didn't get one either. Filling the fridge in the kitchen with the items she'd just purchased, she looked back upon the time when it was not hers but the housemaid's job to get and cook food, which was only about three years ago, when she was still attending university, and in such moments, being extremely tired after 12 hours of work, she missed being cared for without having to lift a finger. However, it had been her own decision to lead this sort of life.

When she discovered her passion for acting, she had thought it wouldn't be too difficult to reconcile that, the financing of her appartment and the rest of her life and her studies, but, oh, how wrong she'd been. Shortly afterwards she'd already suffered from sleep deprivation, making her abandon journalism in favour of the dramatic arts, which she'd decided to fully concentrate on, then had to move back to her mother in default of ability to afford living on her own. Since she had wanted to maintain her independence, though, she'd offered her mother to pay rent - only a fraction of what she'd paid for her appartment before - whereupon they had agreed on this arrangement: Victoria would not have to pay rent, as long as she kept the house, and the young woman took this 'contract' seriously, always fulfilling her tasks conscientously, just like she did now.

She strolled back to the foyer, grabbed her bag she'd left on the floor there and entered the living room.

The cream-coloured walls and furniture almost seemed white in the blazing light of the lustre, suffusing its entire environment. The wooden cocktail table between the two sofas and the black armhair framed with gold merely were in contrast to the bright rest, and so was the old woman sitting in the latter and looking up to the TV attached to the upside of the chimney across from her. Her pink sweater, featuring two cats playing with a ball of wool, clashed with the elegance around her, but, seemingly, she couldn't care less.

"Hey nan, is mom still in her meeting?"

The old woman nodded, not taking her gaze from whatever show she was watching.

Fetching the few magazines she'd lifted from the hotel reception she worked at from her bag, Victoria said: "I brought you a bit more reading material. Did you eat yet?"

"The pasta bake you made a couple of days ago.", her grandmother responded after a moment had passed with a croaky, high-pitched voice.

"Didn't think it'd still be good..."

The old woman shrugged. "In my days we had much less savoury food on hand." As Victoria turned to leave the living room, her grandmother finally averted her eyes from the screen. "Don't you want to take a seat and watch a bit TV together?"

"Sorry, nanna, I have to learn my lines." Before she could stop herself from doing it, she added in an amused tone: "I'd be glad to practise with you, though."

The woman in the armchair growled. "You know that I don't want anything to do with your actress fuss."

Victoria sighed. "Gosh, nan, I was just kidding..."

"Every single day I try to bring you to reason, but you won't listen..."

Rolling her eyes, Victoria walked back to the entrance hall and ascended the staircase on its right, until she couldn't hear her grandmother's grousing anymore.

It's always the same old story. 'You didn't graduate for _that_', '_That _has no prospects', 'Get a _real_ job'. Her grandmother even went so far as to tell her to consider being some kind of charlady at a post office once, just because that's what her position was, when she was younger. She was absolutely unsympathetic to acting, viewed it as vain and inferior. It simply boggled her mind that mental and emotional work could be even more exhausting than physical one. Victoria's mother, on the other hand, was more open-minded, after all she as a business woman naturally set great value to cognitive skills, and, in fact, she had been very supportive, at first. But after three years of bad success her impatience had made her a bit sceptical towards Victoria's objectives. And the perpetual nagging of her grandmother, who lived with them for quite some time now, wouldn't mend matters either.

Her words still resounded in Victoria's mind - sometimes her shield against the insults left much to be desired - as she paced up and down her room with the play's script in her hands. Lightly, she shook her head. She just couldn't concentrate when being all churned up inside. With a hiss she threw the script onto her bed, shortly followed by herself.

Her cheek was pressed against the pillow. Victoria eyed the wall opposite to her, which was stuck all over with notes having motivational quotes and sayings on them. Indeed, there were times when those cheered her up, gave her the energy to pick herself up and continue learning her lines or whatever work she was doing at the moment, now, however, was not such a time. No energy boost came, just a tingling sensation that rushed through her tired body, getting comfortable on the bed.

A shrill tone broke her state of relaxation.

Quickly, she took the heavy phone from her bed stand. "Hello?"

"_Table's reserved. Wanna go out_?"

Victoria stared at the ceiling for a second.

On the one hand, she was incredibly tired, simply wanted to wrap up in her blanket and sleep, but on the other hand going out might lift her spirits. Especially going out with him.

A smirk spread across her lips.

"Ready to go."

* * *

Victoria had met Brian a few weeks ago and they simply hit it off. Not least because the director had offered her a role in his next commissioned piece _Don Giovanni_. Though, Victoria was not that kind of girl that let herself get wrapped around someone's finger for some fantastic job, which it was, no, she wanted to get to know him first and so they began dating. This now was their 4th rendezvous and, sitting next to him in his car now, calmed her more than she'd have expected.

He listened to her talk about her awful day while he drove, glancing at her every now and then, since his eyes rather fixed on the road in front of them.

"Slow-motion? In a theatre?"

"That's exactly what I thought! And I wanted to tell him, but he wouldn't let me."

Brian grunted. "Stubborn douchebag... A good director is amendable for advice and rehearses a scene as often as it takes to make cast and crew feel comfortable with it."

"Oh, I so look forward to working with you..."

"But... you know it's just a minor role?", he said, looking at her with a bit of concern.

She laughed. "Sure! The main characters are reserved for those who can actually sing! It absolutely stands to reason!"

"You can sing, too."

"But not like them. I'm happy with my role, don't-" She frowned. "Uhm... Shouldn't you have turned off at that exit?"

"Well, no, I got a call earlier. Need to meet some clients before we go to the restaurant, but, don't worry, our table's reserved til 11:30. We'll definitely be finished by then." He placed his hand on her arm in a soothing gesture, making her smile again.

Meet some clients... They're probably active at the theatre as well, maybe some producers or other directors. If Victoria managed to make a lasting first impression on them, it could open even more doors for her than Brian could, which was why she instantly checked her makeup in the wing mirror. Simply waiting for being discovered was lazy and pointless and there was nothing wrong with a little self-made career boost. 'Man forges his own destiny.', said one of the notes in her room and Victoria would definitely not let this golden opportunity slip.

* * *

Perhaps the 'golden' before the 'opportunity' had been exaggerated. Victoria had expected a fancier place to meet, maybe an elegant house like her mother's or another restaurant. Instead, Brian parked the car in front of a bedraggled, abandoned looking warehouse.

"That's... it?", she asked hesitantly. She possibly overlooked the actual meeting place, hidden somewhere behind this... absurdity.

"Yup.", Brian destroyed her hopes, unbuckling his belt. When he saw her expression, though, he laughed. "It's a depository for film props, don't have a cow! Do I look like a serial killer or something?"

She smirked a little, finally finding a bit of her courage again. "Guess that's exactly what a serial killer would say."

He laughed again and got out of the car, motioning her to do the same.

A moderate breeze flew around them, making Victoria wrap her coat tighter around her waist, but this was not the only reason she did that. She wasn't scared - she was no chicken, not in the slightest - but the dimmed anteroom they entered now, filled with damp air, send a chill down her spine. Such a rundown environment made her feel uneasy, probably just because she wasn't used to it. However, she didn't want to convey being spoiled, so she didn't hesitate to follow Brian into the main hall, which was well-lit fortunately.

"Hullo, folks!", Brian shouted through the vast room, wherein numerous shelves strung together. The small circle of four men in the front broke, as they turned to them. They all wore threadbare jeans and old rainjackets, two of them had a scrubby beard, one of the others, who stepped a bit forward now, was bald.

"Brian." Although the man's voice was soft, his tone didn't hold a gleam of kindness in it.

All thoughts on grabbing a chance and climbing the career ladder were already forgotten. This whole situation gave Victoria the creeps. She didn't know what it was, but it certainly was not a meeting of theatre people or filmmakers or artists in general. Brian obviously had his secrets - maybe he was a drug addict and those his dealers? - and Victoria didn't know why he wanted to share them with her. She didn't want to know about. She just wanted to go home now, simply turn around and walk off, however, turning her back on those strangers was out of question for her. Indeed, it was prejudiced towards lower classes, which those stern looking men probably belonged to, to believe them to be criminals or something similar simply by their appearance, but she, who'd never been involved in any back door deal, just couldn't help it, which was why she slowly, and hopefully imperceptively, went to stand behind her companion.

"How have you all been in the meantime? It's been freezing cold the last days, innit?"

"We're not here to make small talk. Do you have the money or not?", the bald man responded in a strong irish accent.

"Well... no, but-"

"You violate our agreement again?"

"No, no, no! I don't, I don't, believe me!" Brian, holding his hands up in defence, spoke so fast, Victoria would fear he could stumble over his own words, if she wasn't concentrated on not freaking out. What the hell did she get into here? "I know our acquaintance had proceeded in an unfortunate way recently, due to my inability to repay you, _but_ I landed a great directing job lately, whereby I'll be able to give you your money in not more than two days or so. With interest!"

"We want our money now, you know that only too well."

"I do, I do, and I _will_ pay you as soon as I have it and to prove my goodwill I brought you a little gift."

There Victoria felt a hand grab her right arm tightly, before Brian already yanked her forward.

"BRIAN, WHAT THE-"

"By way of pledge, you understand."

She tried to break away, tried to loosen his grip, while the man in front of them eyed her shortly. "I admit that is a nice offer..."

However, Brian couldn't listen to him at the moment, was too busy attempting to get Victoria under control by wrapping his arm around her body, but with a kick against his shin she prevented him from doing so and dealt a blow to his larynx that wasn't as hard as she intended, but apparently hard enough. A cawing sound escaped his throat and tears welled up in his eyes, but Victoria didn't pay attention to any of it, had only one thought in her mind: Run. And so she did.

"Get her.", she heard the man tell another, as she reached the door they'd come through earlier.

She desperately wished she wouldn't wear heeled boots, as they hampered running, but she couldn't concentrate on that now. The only thing that mattered was getting away, find a save place somewhere, find groups of people, policemen, _someone_, which wasn't easy at this hour, and still she dashed over the car park with everything she got, pumping all her energy into her legs. Her heart pounded strongly in her chest, making her hear her own pulse in her ears, though, unfortunately, this was not the only sound that reached her mind.

Wide-eyed she took a quick look over her shoulder. One of the bearded men followed her and, taking far bigger steps than she did, he slowly caught up.

"HELP!", she cried out as loud as she could, in hopes of reaching anyone around, although she couldn't spot anybody in the dark of the night. "PLEASE, HELP!"

No reply.

The steps behind her came closer and closer.

Maybe if she zigzagged, she could lose him and then... No, that's silly! She'd even simplified it for him by doing that.

She just couldn't think straight, couldn't make up a plan. The adrenalin rushing through her veins made her body work flat out, but not her brain. The only thing that came to her mind was making use of the moment of surprise and, since time to overthink this idea was running out, she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, spun around and let her foot shoot up, directly into the chest of her follower. He was thrown back, hit the ground hard and, before he even had the chance to groan, Victoria already set off, but there another man rushed her off her feet.

Screaming, she struggled against him on the ground. As soon as he got through her arm-waving, the man on top of her squeezed a pungent, sweet smelling cloth over her nose and mouth. She wanted to yank it off, wanted to press her thumbs into the attacker's eyes and kick him off her with her knee, letting her fists ruin his face completely, however, her limbs didn't play along, slowly became numb. A ringing began to sound in her ears. And then everything went black.


	3. Princess and Dragon

_**Author's Note: Sorry for this chap's length, I though about parting it but.. Meh. Anyway in this one SOMEONE finally makes an appearance :D are you excited? I AM EXCITED O-O**_

**Sonea27_: THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEW! I just love feedback. It's all wonderful if people favourite and follow my stories (a great thank you to all who do!), but reviews motivate me even more, since people actually take the time to tell me their opinion on MY story :))) And yes, don't worry, the connections will be revealed soon ;)_**

_**R&amp;R PLEASE!**_

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**Princess and Dragon**

The first sensation that seized her when she awoke was hunger. Victoria was starving. Since that usually made it better, she wanted to gently massage her stomach, however, her hands stayed in their place and she knew why, even without opening her eyes, which she had kept closed on purpose. She wasn't afraid to see her environment, particularly as no light was perceivable through her lids, which led her into believing that she wouldn't be able to recognise much more when they were open anyway, but she simply had no desire to see it. Nevertheless she dared a look now.

Thanks to the thin gap between the door across from her and the ground, there were more things discernable in the dark than she'd thought, still only silhouettes, though. Seemingly, she sat on the floor of a cloakroom - the smell confirmed her assumption - her hands tied together and up to one of the toilet's pipes with some zipties. Instantly, she tugged at them, but didn't actually build her hopes up to be able to break free. For that, her left energy was insufficent, so after a while she gave up and leant against the wall, sighing.

Up to now she'd managed to avoid to be haunted by her memories, to fully get aware of her situation, but sitting in the dark, alone, and feeling the rough plastic of the cable ties chafing her skin, almost cutting into her wrists with every move she made, the realisation hit her like a slap in the face.

She was a captive, drugged and kidnapped by complete strangers. And her almost-boyfriend had snookered her into that. He'd lied to her, decoyed her into this warehouse and sold her like some piece of meat just to pay his debts. No, not sold. He passed her on to those men _for free. "By way of pledge"_, he'd said.

Victoria winced when a certain thought crossed her mind.

If those men had been able to bring her here without making her recovering consciousness, what else had they been able to do?

Immediately, her breathing quickened, her whole body began to tremble and cold sweat covered her, as she got to her knees in order to be in a position to reach down into her pants with shaky hands. It wasn't a sigh of relief that left her mouth, when she couldn't find any signs of a violent intrusion - the lack of pain hadn't completely convinced her at first - but rather a suppressed scream she prevented from becoming a sound with her right hand pressed against her dry lips, before tears already flooded her eyes, burning into her skin as they ran down her cheeks.

This was wrong, this was all _wrong_. She shouldn't be here, she should be at home, learning her lines and ignoring her grandmother's nagging and her mother's absence. This was a dream, a nightmare, it _had_ to be, because if it was actually happening, the men who brought her here would rape her sooner or later and then eventuelle kill her as soon as they grew tired of her body and there was no reasonable chance to escape, especially since Victoria had no idea where she was.

Sobbing, she dried her eyes with the sleeve of her coat she noticed she was still wearing.

Suddenly a muffled voice reached her, as if someone was approaching the door from the outside. As to confirm her conjecture the lights in the small room went on, making Victoria squeeze her lids together, before already a click rang out and a man entered the cloakroom. She couldn't recognise his features, since her eyes still had to adjust to the sudden brightness, though, from the sound of his voice she could tell that he was grinning.

"Ey, ya finally woke up."

When Victoria was capable of seeing properly again, she instantly turned to the wall with an expression full of disgust, since the man had unzipped his pants to pee standing up. As well as she could with her tied hands she shielded her nose from the stench originating from his actions, desperately trying keep down whatever was still left in her stomach.

There thick fingers grasped her hair.

"Don't look away, c'mon, look at it. You'll like it, promise." The man laughed, attempting to pull her head towards his exposed member, but with a quick movement Victoria tore free from his not too firm grip.

"If you hold this tiny dick any closer to my face, I'll bite it off, is that understood, minger?", she spat at him, giving him the most hatefull look her dark eyes had to offer.

He kept grinning, got dressed again, though, and left with a whispered: "Bitch."

The following moments she held her gaze directed at the spot she'd seen him the last time, glared at it as if she wanted him to feel it even through the door, then she heaved a deep sigh of relief, closing her eyes. She didn't know if he left the light on on purpose or if he just forgot to turn it off - the latter was surely more likely - but she was glad to be surrounded by brightness after sitting in the dark for so long. It provided her with a certain degree of solace, which she was direly in need of now, in order to stop weeping and marshal her thoughts. Perhaps she was wrong assuming that there was no escape and therefore she had to investigate the facts: A young actress, crouching in the corner of a cloakroom and crying over her bad luck... If it hadn't been for the grim circumstances, this would've caused her to laugh, since that sight wasn't as uncommon as most people thought. Unlike many of her female collegues, it just never had happened to her before. It took more than a bleak future to make Victoria Davies-Norwood doing so, such as... well, imminent agonies and death. However, this was not the facts to concentrate on now.

At least to guess her current location - unless it was some godforsaken area in the middle of nowhere Victoria could allow herself to aspire to flee - she had to know how long she'd been unconscious. She'd been chloroformed, she was positive about that, but what did she know about that anaesthetic? How long did its effect last? Victoria wished her chemistry lessons wouldn't be so long ago that she couldn't remember a thing.

It bothered her that she already foundered at her first question, though, this was no reason to panic. Concentration. She'd always worked well under pressure, she would certainly come up with a plan.

When the ugly man from earlier had left, she'd been able to catch a glimpse of what was behind that door. The only person she'd spotted apart from the minger had been hunched over a table, his back facing her, and judging from the room's size - it'd been medium sized without any windows, whose walls were covered in maps and things like that - there couldn't be a lot more. That meant if someone untied her to do whatever he had in mind to do to her and she managed to break free, there wouldn't be too many people to follow her.

Victoria stood up, at least as far as the cable ties let her, flexing and stretching her legs. She'd need to turn in a superb sprint if she didn't want them to catch her again. After all she was exhausted in comparison to those men - her stomach still let loose some noises at times due to its emptiness. However, if she did manage to find the way out of this building, what should she do then? It's probably still night and noone's going to be there to help her. And what if this _was_ in the middle of nowhere? How'd she escape then?

_Cars_, it rushed through her mind. Somehow those guys must've reached this place themselves, transporting her thereby as well. They certainly parked their cars outside, Victoria's wheeled means of escape. However, she had no idea how to hot-wire a vehicle, which meant that she'd have to steal somebody's keys, before -

A scream rang out.

Reflexively, Victoria squatted down. She had no idea what was going on, but all of a sudden everyone outside seemed to be atwitter. Yelling was to hear, clicking, quick footsteps moving away, but no details were perceivable for her. Victoria wondered what put her captors in such a flurry, though, they were not the only ones being in a great state.

Just like earlier, when she'd tried to run away from her kidnappers, her pulse and breathing quickened, as she listened to the dull noises outside the cloakroom. The strong urge to rip those zipties apart and see what exactly was happening seized her, making her twist and pull on her own wrists again with far more force than before provided by the adrenaline pumping through her veins.

She stopped when the first shots were fired. It sounded like a battle was fought in the next room, gunfire, punching, yelling, groaning. Someone apparently hit the light switch, since, again, darkness surrounded her. Neither her mind nor her body had had the time to digest the events, there it was already over again.

Utter silence spread, the only noise noticable were light footsteps passing the door across from Victoria. She didn't dare to breathe. Attracting the attention of whatever was wandering out there as cautiously as a predator hunting its prey seemed like a bad idea, dangerous, given that it had put all those men out of action with ease apparently...

She frowned.

Whoever was out there had caused her kidnappers severe difficulties like... the police would.

Without giving the matter a lot of thought, Victoria blurted out: "Hello?!"

The footsteps paused.

"Please, help me, I'm in here! They tied me down!"

The footsteps approached the cloakroom slowly. Although she hoped this to be her rescue, she got into position for a sidekick in case she was mistaken and something even more horrible than her captors lurked out there, but when the door was torn open, all pugnacity left her. Her jaw dropped slightly. She'd gotten ready for a uniformed officer, maybe someone in one of those special forces gear, however the man standing in front of her now blew up her expectations like someone hitting the button for a building implosion.

His navy blue bespoke suit and the crisp white shirt beneath it hugged his athletic yet slender figure like a second skin, the tie was of the same black as his glasses and although it was more than obvious that he'd just been enmeshed in a fight - the men lying on the ground behind him spoke volumes, figuratively of course, they weren't able to utter one word in their condition - his brown hair was perfectly in place. The bright lights coming from the room behind him, who looked like being in his mid or late thirties, made his appearance even more stunning, which was why the young woman didn't even eye the gun he levelled at her once, only stared at _him_.

While Victoria was still frozen from shock, the man lowered the weapon after examining her shortly and seemingly rating her as harmless, making the umbrella that hang from the crook of his arm slide down a bit.

"We have a civilian here...", he spoke up in a quiet yet slightly sour tone, though, Victoria wasn't sure who this sentence was addressed to. His eyes wandered down to her wrists for a split second, then to the side. He pocketed his gun, placed one foot on the person sitting on the ground, the one who'd hit the light switch as it seemed and who was barely visible for her, and yanked a side cutter, which was sticking in the person's... head? Victoria didn't really want to know. "How long have you been here?" This time he obviously addressed her, as he stepped up to her, clipping the cable ties.

Victoria struggled with finding her voice again, especially since, now that he was so close to her, she could smell his pleasant scent. Weren't fights supposed to make people sweat? "Hi...", she breathed, then blinked, realising that this was no answer to his question, and cleared her throat. "I-I don't know to be honest. I woke up here about a-an hour ago. Or less. Lost track of time."

As soon as her hands were free, she sighed, rubbing her grazed wrists. She'd have thought that the man would step away instantly after freeing her, provide more space in between them, but he didn't budge. Instead he gave her the warmest smile, she'd ever seen in her whole life, almost making her knees begin to buckle.

"I will bring you into safety. Everything is going to be fine.", he said softly, probably misinterpreting her speechlessness and bewildered expression as fear.

Still not able to utter another word, she simply nodded, whereupon he left the cloakroom. Lightly tilting her head, Victoria admired the view of his back side for a moment, regarding him from his broad shoulders down to his -

No! She was 24, damn it, she couldn't be distracted by such impulses. After all she was still a captive involved in an extremely dangerous situation and all she had to concentrate on was getting out of here safely.

Finally being in control of herself again, she followed him out.

Most of the men distributed over the floor seemed like being unconscious only, with no visible wounds, whereas one or two were undoubtedly dead, judging from the blood flowing from various holes in their bodies. A queasy feeling overcame the young woman, though, the knowledge that these people had kidnapped her, most probably planning to do dreadful things to her, helped to contain it.

"I apologise for this mess.", the man in the suit said, walking towards the only doorframe apart from the one they'd just come through. "A lady shouldn't be a witness of such ... savagery."

"Oh, uh..." Victoria took a big step over one extra large puddle of blood to not unnecessarily soil her boots. "Don't worry about it. I'm not particularly sensitive anyhow, Sir. Speaking of which, may I ask-"

His suddenly raised hand hushed her. A moment of silence passed by, in which the man peeked into the corridor the doorframe apparently led to, then he produced his gun again, clutching the umbrella with the other hand. "There are more than we thought, Merlin." In one quick movement he changed the magazine of his weapon. "Will do." He looked at Victoria. "Hide in the cloakroom until I call you."

Without hesitating she complied with his command, though, left the door ajar to see what was going on now. The man in the suit still leant against the wall next to the doorframe, the gun in his left, the right closed around the black umbrella, absolutely nonchalant, as if he was just waiting for a train, although some dull screams rang out from the corridor already. Shouldn't he barricade himself in the room or something in case they were armed to an even bigger extend as he was? The men he'd checkmated before were surrounded by nothing but ordinary pistols or batons, which were no problem for him, obviously. But what if their reinforcement was equipped with machine guns or the like?

Victoria bit her bottom lip, her hands felt cool due to the sweat it slowly was covered with.

She didn't know this man, but she certainly didn't want to see him die. After all he was her only chance to leave this place safely. However, there was nothing she could do to help him, just pray and watch a row of men, about seven, all dressed in body armour vests and having various weapons at the ready, enter the room at a quick pace, completely failing to notice the calm man in the suit thereby.

Their faces adopted puzzled expressions.

"Where the fuck is this bugger?!", one of them shouted in the irish accent all of them apparently had.

His question was answered by the yelp of the rearmost one of the group, as the man in the suit suddenly hit the back of his head with the umbrella, using its handle as a hook around his neck right afterwards to yank him towards himself. When they all spun around in shock, he already shot through the guy's shoulder, making him his shrieking shield, as his bullets pierced through hands, arms and legs. The hit ones cried out in pain, though, thanks to the room's not really overwhelming size, not all of the group got injured, whereby he soon threw the human shield at them and entered close combat. He knocked the umbrella's end into someone's nose, dodged the punch of another, carried out a quick turn and hit the man's temple with his elbow. His movements were so fast yet so calculated, it left Victoria gape in awe.

Despite what society expected young women to be fond of, she'd always loved fighting, had attended taekwondo competitions and such as a spectator, just to watch the masters at work, but _this_ beat it all. His speed of reaction, the efficiency of his strokes ... It simply was _amazing_!

That his opponents outnumbered him didn't seem to bother him at all, as he finished off one after another... except one guy, who stood in the corner, gaping just like Victoria did, but with a totally different expression on his ugly face. It was the one who'd come into the cloakroom earlier and, obviously, he wasn't only a disgusting and rude person, but also a coward, since he slowly slid across the wall behind him towards the exit, trying to not attract the attention of the man in the suit, which only fuelled Victoria's already strong thirst for action.

She didn't want him to get away scot-free, didn't want him to remain unscathed, which was why she stepped out of the cloakroom, promptly picked up the expandable baton lying on the ground before her feet, got around the fight in the middle of the room and struck the weapon's end right into his nasty face at full tilt. Before he even had the chance to grasp who just left this red, burning mark on his skin, Victoria attacked him again, and again, and again, made the baton hiss every time she let it cut through the air.

Hitting every sensitive spot that wasn't covered by his bulletproof vest, she balanced her weight with her legs apart, just like they'd taught her in her fencing lessons - one of the advantages of the private school she'd been to. What hadn't been allowed to do back then was grabbing the other's weapon, though, this was exactly what the unsightly man did now, after he'd taken her blows, each with a squeal. He grabbed her by her neck and drew her into a headlock. Intuitively she bumped her fist into his groin, loosened his grip thereby and jostled him away, making him stumble over his own feet and fall. In an instant she was standing over him again, beat him with everything she got, until she was suddenly pulled aside and the man in the suit eventually knocked him out with one single punch to the face.

"Sometimes less is more, Miss.", he stated, looking at her with raised eyebrows. "Don't waste your energy on one man, particularly since there are surely more obstacles to overcome on our way into safety. Apart from that: Well done. I clearly underestimated you." With a nod he signified her to follow him and together they hastened out.

While the man in the suit led the two of them through this labyrinth of corridors, constantly scanning the area with his attentive eyes - another reason to be incredibly glad about his presence, since Victoria's attempted escape would have failed with finding the exit already - she held fast to his sleeve for fear that he might outrun her. The fabric of his blue suit felt different than she'd expected, different from other suits. Even the bespoke clothing of her mother's friends and business partners Victoria met during her dinner parties felt other than this one, making her wonder what it was made of. It was absurd, though, considering that there were even more of those, probably armoured, criminals on their tail, pointed out by the shouts ringing out behind them.

"Can you drive a car?"

"I got my driving licence a few months ago, so, yes, I guess.", she replied panting. Usually stamina was her friend, however, that hunger gave her a shout again, scurrying from corner to corner had become more challenging than she'd thought. Nevertheless, the cold breeze coming from this place's exit they apparently approached now made her ignore it completely. 'Freedom is a captive's greatest incentive', it shot through her head and a wide smile spread across her face.

Her companion didn't seem to share her enthusiasm, as he growled quietly. "I fear that won't be enough."

When they finally climbed the stairs to an open door and night's fresh air surrounded them - Victoria could jump for joy if they weren't in such a hurry - he told her to get into the car he pointed at. It stood further afar from others parked in front of the building, which looked so ordinary that noone would ever suspect such a maze obeneath it, harbouring a large group of criminals. Though, judging from the environment - the house seemed to stand amidst a wood of tall, dark trees and only one road led away from it - it was hardly ever visited by uninitiated people anyway.

As always Victoria obeyed his order without hesitation and quickly belted up on the passenger seat. As the man in the suit got in as well, she suddenly perceived loud shouting coming from the exit of the building, whereby she couldn't understand why her rescuer tore the rear-vision mirror off, instead of immediately hitting the road.

"What are you doing?", she asked nervously, her widened eyes directed at the men with guns leaving the house and looking out for them. "Get a move on or they'll shoot us!"

The man in the suit didn't react to her flurry, simply took her hand and placed the mirror in it. "Hold it just like this." He stretched her arm back, until the reflexion showed the entire front view, and started the engine.

"W-what are you u-"

And then he floored it. From one moment to the other Victoria was pushed into her seat, though, it wasn't the car's high speed by itself that let her tremble with fear, no, it was the fact that its driver didn't look forward, simply steered them over the winding forest road with his right hand on the wheel, whilst firing at their pursuers at the back with the other. His eyes constantly wandered from the mirror she was holding to the cars behind them, whose passengers also shot at them, however, their aiming skills obviously weren't as good as those of the man in the suit, which only contributed to Victoria's switch of feelings.

In a matter of seconds the fear within her changed to euphoria, made her laugh out loud.

"Don't move."

"I'm sorry, I just..." She shrieked with joy, taking care of holding the mirror in position. "YOU ARE AMAZING!"

He still was fully concentrating on firing and driving at the same time, yet she could see a smile play around the corners of his mouth and justifiably so. Who wouldn't be proud if one had such manoeuvres in store, making the impossible possible with one's incredible abilities and even looking insanely handsome in doing so?

Victoria felt like having been drawn into a fairytale, where she, the damsel in distress, was freed from the evil dragon by a brave knight, save that this knight wasn't wearing a shiny armour, but a fancy suit, which was much to her liking anyway. She just couldn't believe to be that lucky. About an hour ago she had been tied down to a toilet, having to deal with some filthy bastard and her fear to get murdered soon, and now she was sitting next to the most phenominal man she'd ever met and probably would ever meet in her whole life. She could only imagine her mother's and especially her grandmother's face, when telling this story and introducing him to them. How splendid that would be! If this was a dream, and in view of what her knight was doing right now that wasn't too improbable, she didn't want to be woken up.

A bullet whooshed past her, making her cry out and duck. Turning forward abruptly now that the mirror was gone, her knight hissed "Shit!", jerked at the wheel violently to not let the car hit the tree it was going hurtling towards, but the only thing filling Victoria's mind was the slope in front of them and suddenly the world went upside down.


	4. Prioritise

_**Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update, but I'm finally getting my driver licence ^_^ And to celebrate I'll go to the cinema tomorrow, and which movie am I going to watch? Exactly, KINGSMAN AGAIN AND I'M SO EXCITED YEEEEEAHHH :DDD**_

_**Enjoy and please review! :)**_

* * *

**Prioritise**

Victoria groaned, clumsily pushing this white cushion from her. She'd always thought an airbag deployment was as if someone pressed a pillow against you, but actually it felt more like hitting the floor with one's face. It hurt. Hell, it really did. However, she knew that after such a crash - the car had rolled over a few times, smashing into one or two trees, until it had finally come to a stand on the road again, which continued here after a long curve - she'd be battered even more without this bolster filled with air, just like the man next to her.

Victoria paused. Quickly she turned to her right.

There was no deployed airbag in front of the man in the suit, only blood on the steering wheel and the cracked window next to him, which apparently originated from his own head. His now ruffled hair stuck to the lacerations as he hung in his seatbelt, totally limp.

"Sir?", she asked shakily, joggling his shoulder, though, he still didn't move. There fear began to creep into her bones, stronger than what she'd felt before, her heart started to pound wildly, almost seeming to jump out of her chest. One certain thought seized her mind, but she refused to let it paralyse her and simply joggled harder. "Sir!"

When, again, she didn't receive any kind of reaction, Victoria squeezed two fingers against his neck and held her breath. It was the longest few seconds of her entire life, remaining in this stiff position and desperately waiting for a sign that her rescuer survived this accident, and only when she sensed an admittedly slow but yet existing pulse, she let out the deepest sigh of relief imaginable.

She wouldn't have known what to do if he was dead, especially since she would have been burdened with guilt thereby. After all she was to blame for their situation, had let the mirror drop for fear of being struck by the enemy's bullets, thus causing this appalling accident, which could've killed both of them. But it hadn't. They were alive, one more than the other, but still, which was way more than you could say for this total loss of a car, a total loss they should probably leave before it collapsed right over their heads.

It took a lot of effort to get out of the car, particularly as Victoria had to resume the struggle against the cushion, and when her soles touched stable ground again, crunching sounds rang out. The faint moonlight shone onto the mess of shards of glass and metal debris distributed over the asphalt, making the dark road sparkle as if it was reflecting the spangled sky above. It would be a lovely sight if it wasn't for the tragic circumstances.

Victoria's whole body was aching and shaking with every step she took, though, she blocked out any pain as far as possible. The man in the car was way worse off and she needed to get him out of there, see if she could help him somehow. With her feet she swiped away the biggest chunks to make room for the man, took her coat off - just like the pain she ignored the freezing cold completely - and rolled it up to some improvised pillow.

There was a large dent in the door on his side, squeezing it into the vehicle, which was why Victoria had to place one foot on the car to be able of pulling it open. Grunting, she drew the man in the suit out to the free space she'd cleared with her feet earlier and gently placed his head on her coat. Her sore body was begging for a break, but she didn't stop once, quickly tore the sleeve of her blouse off - it cost her quite an effort of will to do so, especially since this was one of her favourite tops - and cautiously wrapped it around his head, hopefully staunching the wounds there in doing so.

When she was just repeating this with her other sleeve, quiet engine noises rang out. With widened eyes Victoria peeked over the wreck next to her.

Headlights luminated the street in the distance, coming closer and closer. It was their criminal pursuers, no doubt about it, at least those the man in the suit hadn't shot before the crash. They must have witnessed it, had probably crowed over it, and now they wanted to check if their attacker was dead and if not finish the job themselves.

Yet again Victoria began to panic - she rather didn't count how often that already happened in this night - and bent over the man on the ground, gently slapping his cheek. "Sir! Please, wake up!", she breathed, but her rescuer remained unconscious.

What was she supposed to do now? He was way too heavy for her to carry and she wouldn't go very far dragging him along either. The only option seemed to be abandoning him to his fate and flee into the pitch-black forest, so that at least she could escape with her life. However, this option was ineligable for Victoria, due to the fact that this man's life was way more worth than hers.

There would most probably be people to object, her family in particular, but to her it was clear as daylight. The way the man in the suit had handled this whole situation had proven her that this was not the first time he'd faced that kind of danger. She didn't know what his actual reason to be here was - judging from his reaction when he found her, rescuing her was clearly not his mission - or rather what those criminals had been up to that such a skilled man was sent to thwart their plans, but it certainly concerned far more than her only. Saving people's lives... Probably everyday routine for him, whereas Victoria had never accomplished anything of general significance. She was just a nobody, irrelevant for mankind. The man before her, on the other hand, was made of true hero material. He was important, he was needed.

Victoria had always been good in setting her priorities and this time her priority was the man in the suit. She must not let those criminals kill him, she had to protect him and if it's the last thing she ever did.

Swiftly, she pulled the coat out from under the man's head, anxious to not hurt him any further therefore, and slipped in, while searching the car floor for her rescuer's weapon. When she found it, she didn't spend much time on examining it, though she was totally aware that this could compensate for a disadvantage given that she'd never held firearm in her hands before and that this fact could severely affect her plan, but there was no time for that. The pursuers' cars, two in number, had already reached them, audibly parking on the road further afar. Victoria could hear them get off, which was why she hastened her actions, smeared a bit of her unconscious companion's blood from the steering wheel onto her own face and coat, under which she now hid the heavy gun in her right hand, clutching her elbow as if her arm was broken.

One last deep breath and then she emerged from behind the wreck.

The headlights directed at her reminded her of standing on stage, which even simplified acting. With shaky legs she took tiny steps towards the four confused men standing between their cars and eyeing her, whilst she was breathing heavily and visibly cringing a few times to pretend immense pain. She noticed the pistols in the hands of two of them. A firefight was destined to fail, especially since Victoria had no idea how many bullets her gun was loaded with, which meant that she needed to get closer. Maybe in hand-to-hand combat she could keep them from coming after the man in the suit, until he might regained consciousness. In case plan A didn't work, of course.

"What have you done?", she panted, letting a few tears run down her bloodsmeared cheeks. "You-you killed him, you..."

The four men exchanged baffled looks, before one - Victoria identified him as the bald one from the warehouse - spoke up: "Did we?"

"He-he was a good man. I didn't know him, but... but I'm pretty sure he was." She faked another, stronger wince, hissed with closed eyes. "I think I-I broke my arm. Could... Could you please, please take me to hospital?"

Based on the smirk spreading on his lips, she recognised that he didn't really take her seriously. "Aw, poor baby, of course we will help you, who allied with our enemy... But first, step aside."

He marched forward, his eyes directed at the total loss of a car a few metres behind her, but Victoria blocked his way.

"Wha-What are you up to?"

"Shoot this guy in the head, of course." He winked at her. "Just to make sure."

"B-but that's desecration!"

He shrugged. "Babe, even if you were some famous doctor, I wouldn't quite believe that he's dead. I wanna take a look at his smashed body."

The bald man reached out to push her to the side, froze, however, when he saw the woman in front of him produce a gun and say: "How about taking a look at this first?"

Although Victoria squeezed her lids together when pulling the trigger, she knew that she'd struck the man. Not mortally, unfortunately, just somewhere in his chest she noticed, when closing the gap between her and her opponents, nonstop firing at them, who instantly cried out and tried to hide behind their parked cars. Reaching the crowed men, she finally went out of bullets, whereupon she simply hit the shoulder of the one closest to her with the weapon's grip and, screaming, lunged for them definitely. She managed to knock the gun out of one man's hand, kicked it into the woods and already took a swing for the next. She wanted to show off her skills, wanted to air all her knowledge of fighting and imitate those combat genii she'd always adored, however, her battle was over sooner than she'd preferred.

Just as she booted one attacker into his belly full tilt, another wrapped his arms around her from behind. Victoria let her head shoot up, missed his, wrenched to the left, wrenched to the right, then left again, broke his grip thereby and tried to jostle him away, but before she could conduct any movement, his fist hit her face. Lights flashed before her eyes, her knees became wobbly, barely securing her foothold. Another blow, this time from the side, this time harder, send her to the ground. She'd never received beating before, therefore she'd expected herself being uncapable of taking very much, however, she hadn't expected it to be that painful. As she supported herself on the right elbow, Victoria squeezed her lids together and opened them again to regain normal vision.

She saw the man who'd punched her walk off and together with the other two helped the bald one to his feet. Victoria attempted to sigh, when he dug the bullet out of the body armour vest he'd apparently worn beneath his dark jacket, though, her hurting jaw turned it into a groan.

"Take care of this bitch, I'll take the guy.", he grunted between clenched teeth and turned to the wreck, right hand holding his gun firmly.

His words let the pain die away in an instant. He must not reach the man in the suit, by no means.

Victoria kicked the one bending over her now against his shin, quickly got up and, slightly stumbling, ran after the bald one, whom she jumped onto from behind, screaming: "YOU WON'T TOUCH HIM!"

A cawing sound escaped his throat, while he struggled to loosen her grip around his neck, but his companions soon tore her off him. As he turned to the three of them, who kept her from breaking free again, his face was distorted with rage.

"Here." He held his gun out to one of them. "Go and kill him." Glaring of anger, his eyes set on her. "Leave the bitch to me."

Again Victoria shouted "No!", wresting even harder, though, before she even had the chance to free herself, the bald man let his fist slam into her stomach at full tilt.

Her legs gave in and she fell to her knees, clutching her belly. She couldn't breathe properly, since her muscles didn't stop to contract, desperately trying to ease the piercing pain in her abdomen, though, the attempt failed. Victoria was close to throwing up, when a foot crashed into her jaw, sending her to the ground definitely. Her arms and the foetal position her body'd automatically gone into barely protected her from the kicks and blows showering down on her.

'He's going to kill me' it flashed through her mind again and again, as she felt a little bit of her consciousness slip away every time she made contact with the bald man's strength. She imagined how her family would react when policemen told them about her departure or when it appeared in the papers. Funny, actually. Victoria had always wanted to be mentioned on the news or so. Maybe she should have been more precisely in her prayers as a teenager.

Thanks to the partial numbness that had seized her body by now, she only realised that the beating stopped a few moments later. A gurgle reached her, followed by gasps. Into her by swollen eyes limited sight the one chosen to kill the man in the suit faltered, eyes wide, bloody hands frantically trying to remove the big splinter of glass from his neck.

Then everything went off fast.

Bullets were fired, curses shouted and Victoria's knight stepped into her field of vision. If her facial muscles weren't so sore, she would have given him the brightest smile she had in store, however, he most probably wouldn't see it anyway or rather would not pay attention to it, since he was already in the thick of the fight again. Just like earlier he used his umbrella as weapon - Victoria hadn't even noticed it lying about in the car after the crash - belabouring the two men attacking him with slightly less vigour but still more than sufficiently.

'Wait.', Victoria thought. Two men? There'd been four, minus the one gurgling and shaking on the ground. Yes, where was the man who'd beaten her almost senseless, where was the bald one?

There he showed himself. His illuminated figure seemed almost white in contrast to the pitch-black forest beside him, as he emerged from behind the car he'd dodged behind, apparently to change the magazine of his gun he held out now, its muzzle pointing at the man in the suit, who was just finishing off the last one with his back facing the bald man.

As fast as everything had proceeded before, now every second seemed to last an eternity for Victoria. She couldn't let it happen, couldn't let him shoot him. No way.

Adrenaline let her body exhaust her last energy reserves, so that it almost worked by itself, as she pressed up, got on her feet and, at full speed, jumped into the bald man's side, sweeping him away with her into the dark wood... and down the slope hidden within.

For a moment Victoria felt as if she was flying, weightlessly floating in the chill night air, and then her trunk made the acquaintance of the one of a tree. The impact pressed all air out of her lungs at once. She didn't have the chance to take a breath when landing on the ground, since she just kept rolling uncontrollably. Twigs and stones scratched her skin open, more stems crossed her path, crashing into her body like cars at top speed, until suddenly the forest soil flattened and after one last rollover she finally halted.

Silence prevailed in the woods probably, maybe there was also howling of wind and various animals, for Victoria, however, the buzzing in her ears was the only sound existing. She just lay there, unable to move, unable to feel anything but pain. A cloud was hanging in her head that kept her from concentrating on anything other than the agony, let it become the only relevant matter. She noticed someone's hands under her, lifting her up. The someone said something in a far away voice, before the darkness already enwrapped her like a heavy, heavy blanket of nonentity.


	5. Amnesia

**_Author's Note: Chullo! I'm sorry this update took so long and then it's more like a filler, but it's very important for the story, especially since you learn more about the main character and her family :) But don't worry, absurd action will return soon ;)_**

**_ wolviegurl: Thank you very much for taking time to review ^^_**

**_NOW ENJOY, FRIENDS, AND PLEASE REVIEEEEW :DDD_**

* * *

**Amnesia**

Slowly, very slowly, Victoria opened her eyes.

The bright colours the room was decorated in dazzled her and the permanent peeping originating from the machine next to her was utterly irritating. You would think that patient's rooms were designed to comfort people, instead of raising ire or depressing them even more.

The young woman frowned.

A patient's room? How did she get here? What was the reason for her stay?

"Miss Norwood?"

She laid eyes on an elderly woman in likewise annoying white clothes, bent over her, wrinkles deepened by the warm smile on her face.

"Do you hear me, Miss Norwood?"

"I wouldn't have looked at you when you called if I didn't, would I?", Victoria answered in a voice that she wouldn't have recognised as hers. It sounded like the one of a chain smoker, as if her vocal chords consisted of sandpaper, or, more likely in her case, it sounded like one that hadn't been used in a long time. Something that required change. "And, actually, it's Davies-Norwood, just for the record, I personally am not that picky, though."

The nurse tilted her head - perhaps a habbit when seeing something delightful. "You remember your name. A good sign."

Victoria shifted in her bed. Her limbs were weak, seemed heavier than ever, so that sitting up took longer than usual.

"You shouldn't make any efforts so shortly after your awakening.", the woman in white warned in a worried tone, but Victoria simply waved her away, continuing to move.

"I will hardly be able to recover if I have pins and needles in my bum. Would you be so kind and hand me an extra cushion?"

Without further hesitation the nurse met her wish, opened the cupboard front right from the bed, which was the only piece of furniture here apart from the nightstand to Victoria's left, and took a large - how could it be otherwise - white pillow out. Victoria accepted it with muttered thanks, however, the moment she got in touch with the soft fabric, the picture of a certain car crash popped up in her mind. Instantly, the old woman who'd perceived her cringing asked after her full of concern, but she didn't take notice of her anymore, caved in her memories.

Cloakroom, guns, airbag, beating, forest... Everything... she rememberred _everything_ from that night that brought her here. But most of all she rememberred_ him_. His umbrella, his incredible manoeuvres, the man in the suit... The image of his face was so clear in her head, he could actually stand right in front of her, here, in this sick room.

"_Miss_?"

The emphatically spoken word let her snap back into reality. She blinked a few times to get rid of the pictures she saw before her mind's eye. She needed a moment to sort her thoughts out, then finally put the pillow behind her back and leant into it.

Before the nurse could ask what was wrong again, Victoria cautiously said: "How did I come here?"

The nurse straigtened. "Well, we all hoped _you_ could shed light on that matter." She paused, her face adopting worried features again. "Two of our junior doctors found you at the hosptial entrance, unconscious and bleeding internally. Emergency surgery was performed on you, immediately. You were quite lucky under the circumstances, though. No broken, only bruised bones, except your nose, but that could be remedied easily."

Victoria's eyes drifted off to the ground. "You found me? Alone? There was noone else who... brought me?"

The other's nod tightened the knot that had formed in her stomach even more.

Her knight, the man in the suit, had brought her here, there was no doubt in that - who else would've done it? - but, seemingly, he hadn't bothered to properly hospitalise her, had simply left her behind like some parcel he had had the duty to deliver. Nothing more.

"I think you should keep resting for now.", the nurse piped up. "Such news are difficult to assimilate, I can imagine."

Victoria managed to give her a nod. When the elderly lady left, she continued to stare into nothing for a while, however, her racing thoughts only contributed to her tiredness, until she finally sunk into the large soft pillow at her back completely and got off to another dark, dreamless sleep.

* * *

Despite the hospital's warrant that the private room she was lying in provided a better quality of rest, the term 'rest' had to be relatively seen in Victoria's case. Her mother had rushed in first, followed by her grandmother and, surprisingly, her brothers, whom she'd never received that much attention from before. The older twins had always preferred each other's company, even founded some IT-Computer-Tech-Business - Victoria'd failed to understand their exact explanation - together. They even matched their outfits and styles sometimes, looking like one and the same person with their ruffled dark-blond curls, rimless glasses and dress shirts of various bright colours in order to confuse their environment. Now, however, their little, damaged sister was the centre of their entire attention, justifiably, even though they rather quizzed her the whole time, about her state, the hospital staff etc., instead of listening to her bidding for a bit of silence. But actually it didn't really bother her that much. It felt good to see them after a long time of being apart, especially after what had happened before her stay here, which they gladly didn't ask her about, due to their mother's prohibition to do so. She seemed to be the only one with a certain sense of discretion here, threw Victoria's grandmother out as soon as she noticed her begin to nag again, and, after a while, her brothers as well.

"I don't want you to become overstrained." Her mother let out a deep sigh, leaning back in the chair next to the bed Victoria was sitting in. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes indicating that she'd suffered from sleep deprivation the last days, ever since she'd been informed about Victoria's referral. Her usually voluminous, middle-length blond hair slackly hung down to her shoulders, make up was missing entirely and she was wearing casual jeans and cardigan instead of the elegant business clothes one was used to see her in. In such moments it became clear that above her role in high society, above her beloved upper class position as leader of a family empire, Lydia Norwood was a mother, and this conjured the first honest smile on Victoria's face since the moment she woke up.

"It's all right, mum. I feel much better. You, however, look like - I apologise for the poor choice of words, but it's the truth - a total mess. When was the last time you had proper sleep?"

"Don't worry about me, dear.", she warded her statement off with a wave of her hand.

"You need to sleep. And eat. Have you lost weight? Here, take my pudding, I'm not going to eat it anyway."She reached out for the little cup on the tablet the nurse had brought earlier, but Lydia gently put her hand down.

"No, darling, I don't-"

"You do."

"Victoria..."

"Mother." The sharpness in her tone finally grasped her mother's full attention. A short pause followed, wherein the two of them simply exchanged looks. Lydia's was neutral, whereas Victoria had adopted the one her opponent always put on when the severity in her eductation gained the upper hand yet again, the one that didn't allow any back talk. "You are exhausted, it's showing clearly. You need to rest just like I did and you need to ingest some food, before you begin to be all skin and bone."

For a moment Lydia preserved silence, just looked at her daughter, while a weak smile played around her lips. "Sometimes I wonder how I could miss the part where you grew up. It happened so fast." Laboriously she rose from the chair. "Perhaps you're right. I should eat something. But I won't go home, I won't leave you. I'll just buy a coffee and some sandwich at the cantine downstairs. Do you need anything as well?"

Victoria shook her head, shortly closed her eyes as her mother placed a kiss on her forehead and watched her slowly walking through the door then, shoulders more tensed up than they ever had. Victoria was glad she'd put her foot down now, otherwise the family Norwood would have needed another hospital room most probably.

Not a second after her mother had left, the door was already pushed open again and as Victoria saw, who entered, she frowned in bewilderment.

"Dad?" Perhaps she'd been mistaken and hadn't recovered as well as she'd thought after all, so that her mind played such tricks on her now.

"Heya, princess.", her father said quietly as if he feared a greater volume would hurt her, sitting down in the chair her mother had occupied only moments before.

His bronzed skin was of a darker complexion than the last time she'd seen him, but still strongly contrasting to his almost black, slowly thinning out hair and stubble, his smile, however, was the exact beaming smile Victoria had missed for such a long time. It was contagious, conjured a brighter expression on her own face despite her disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, no." He suddenly looked shocked. "I knew it. They _did_ remove parts of your brain for dubious experiments. Your mother and the hospital staff reckoned me as crazy, when I demanded them to show me their secret labs, but, oh, I sussed them! Don't be afraid, my sweet Victoria, I will retrieve your intelligence and if it's the last thing I do! Just watch me." He pointed at himself. "Chunk." Then slowly reached out for her. "Sloooooth..."

Giggling, she shoved his hand aside. "Stop fooling around."

"Then don't ask foolish questions." He laughed. "What am I doing here... I'm here for _you_, of course! I booked the next flight, as soon as your mother called and told me what happened to you." His face suddenly adopted more serious features. "Save that none of us actually has an idea what happened to you yet..."

Victoria decided to ignore his attempt to make her tell him how she'd end up in hospital, simply smirked and said: "Are you trying to avoid Mum or why did you come in only after she left?"

Her father shifted in his seat, wrinkling his nose. "No, not your Mum, rather... this beast called your grandmother. I got her a beautiful welcome present, a small fossil I found in Queensland - thought she'd be glad to meet one of her former classmates again - but she kind of misconceived the message and gave me the classic death glare."

"And how did Charlie and Nick react upon seeing you?"

Immediately, a shadow of sadness lay across his face, and he looked to the ground shortly, before smiling at his daughter once again. "Let's talk about something else. I'm here to make you happy, not sad."

Indeed, the fact that her brothers dispised their own father upset her. Richard Davies had never been quite popular to the Norwood family not only due to his middle-class origin, but also because he was a natural sanguine person, open for everything, always optimistic, always looking for adventures. Apparently, Victoria's mother hadn't been much different at the beginning of their relationship, though, since she assumed the lead of the family company after her father's death, she'd become the cautious, considerate, dilligent lady known to her, thus causing tension within their marriage and, sometime later, ending it in divorce. Perhaps, Richard should've waited longer, should've shown more decency, but his buoyant and passionate personality hadn't allowed him to waste much time and so he'd soon had another woman at his side. Today he lived in Australia - the most dangerous and diverse continent on earth and his personal Mecca - with his domestic partner and their two children, which had never kept him from keeping contact to his family in England. However, Victoria was the only one who'd ever really acknowledged this.

Her brothers accused him of letting them down, loving his 'new family' more than his 'old' one even now, more than a decade after the divorce. If her mother had ever born a similar grudge, she had had too much class to show so though, had never said a bad word about her ex's decisions, nor a good one, admittedly. Victoria herself had always sympathised with her father, respected his wishes, even if it meant that she only got to see him twice or thrice a year. Whether this underlay the fact that she'd been too young to grasp the whole scope of the situation back then, or because she'd inherited part of his lust for live and adventure, she didn't know. She only knew that she loved her father, which was why she was more than happy about his presence now.

"How's Betty and the children?", she asked, smiling.

He eyed her before he gave an answer. "They're fine. Betts signed up for a voluntary job in Peru this summer and Kiah got second place in an internal school physics contest."

"Always delighting to see young girls being interested in science. I would've chosen chemistry as my basic subject if media studies hadn't been my priority. And Cobee? Is he excited for his first year in school already? It's still months to go, but I remember when-"

"Vicky." Although he'd voiced her name in such a soft tone, its suddenness made her hush at once. The strongly worried expression on his face unsettled her extremely. She'd never seen him like that before. "What for heaven's sake happened to you?"

It was more than comprehensible that he and the rest of the family required clarification in this matter, not out of curiosity, but of sheer concern. Who wouldn't ask if a loved one was found, covered in bruises and seriously injured and had barely been able to be saved, with no signs of warning beforehand? They wanted to make sure that the cause for all that wasn't something they had provoked and that it won't happen again.

However, instead of answering the question, Victoria just froze, staring at her father aghast.

There the door was opened again, easing the tension within her a bit, but only until she saw that the nurse entering the room was followed by two policemen.

"Miss Davies-Norwood?", one of them spoke up, as they came to a stand near her bed.

Before Victoria could give them a nod, her father took over in a high-pitched voice: "Yes?" When he realised that he didn't get anyone to laugh with his little joke except his daughter, he blinked in confusion. "Wow, I haven't had such a responsive audience in years. London's fantastic weather really puts the people's humour to a whole new level!"

"Miss Norwood, I'm Detective Inspector Hume, this is Detective Sergeant Cottrell and we're here to investigate the crime leading to your current state.", the one closer to the window on the left - a tall mustached man in his mid to late forties - stated, completely ignoring her father in all sobriety.

Victoria raised to a more upright position, dark eyes examining the men in front of her. Both were wearing black rain jackets crossed by a thick reflective stripe and covered in small drops that testified her father's sarcastic comment about the weather here. The caps on their heads, each encircled by a ribbon of black and white squares, completed their distinctive uniforms, a symbol of prestige, and still they had no more meaning to Victoria. In respect of prestige only one piece of clothing came to her mind now: a tailor-made suit.

She slightly shook her head to get rid of the pictures popping up in her mind, dismissed it as confusion. "I apologise, you just caught me off guard. My family didn't tell me that they called you. If I had known, I-"

"It wasn't your family, Miss Norwood.", the nurse clarified. "It is the hospital staff's duty to report any suspected criminal offence and considering the condition in which you were entrusted to our care that was clearly the case. We came to the understanding, however, that you should be bothered with this matter only as soon as you've recovered to a certain extent and this extent, as it's occured to me, has been reached today."

"Miss,", the detective inspector tied in with his previous statement. "in order to solve this crime, we need to ask you a few questions. First, and most importantly: What happened that brought you here?"

Victoria looked down to the sheets laid over her legs, her brows furrowed. She felt her father's gaze on her now, piercing her like all the other's in the room. They wanted answers, wanted to hear her story no matter how terrifying it might be. However, Victoria wouldn't tell them anything.

The man in the suit hadn't made common cause with the police, otherwise the two detectives wouldn't have to be here or at least would ask her more precise questions. No, he'd apparently operated beyond ordinary law enforcement, which meant that his whole involvement wasn't meant to be blared out and Victoria would certainly not be the one to spoil his endeavors and blow his cover. She mustn't mention him, by no means. This, at least, she owed him.

"I... I can't remember..." With an expression full of consternation, she looked up to the nurse, seemingly seeking help in her medical knowledge.

The old woman gave her a compassionate smile and explained: "Temporary amnesia is absolutely normal after such an incident. Don't worry, dear, your memory will return sooner than you think."

"What is the last thing you can remember before your awakening?", detective sergeant Cottrell, obviously not as patient as his collegue, asked just a second afterwards, for what he earned a stern look by Victoria's father, who immediately had embraced her lightly shaking hand with his two larger ones as soon as he'd detected her dismay.

She thought for a moment, reflected about how far she could go into the events without leading them to the whole truth and then rememberred a detail that seemed perfect to share with the police - especially on a personal level. "There... was this man... Brian... Brian Walsh. He took me out..."

"Are you in a relationship with him?"

"No... No, we were on a few dates only."

"And what happened during your last date?"

She looked around, took a deep breath and sighed then. "...I don't know... I can't -"

"Did he attack you? Or have both of you been attacked?"

"I really can't remember... please, I'm not-"

"Think hard. Where did you two go? Could Mr. Walsh hold a grudge against you?"

"I'm not sure, because I don't remem-"

"Or have other people been involved? Did they assault both of you? What was their-"

"I DON'T KNOW!"

For a moment there was no other sound filling the room than Victoria's heavy breathing. Everyone stared at her, while she just glared back at the police man in front of her.

With a quavering voice she finally spoke up again emphasising every single word for the avoidance of doubt: "My amnesia must be immensely bothersome for you already, but now imagine how _scary_ it is for me. I was _found_ on a street, _half-dead_. I have no idea how I got there, I have no idea what happened and, honestly, I'm not even sure if I_ want_ to know." The tears that had welled up in her eyes while speaking now slowly ran down her cheeks, burnt into her dry skin like drops of pure fire. "It couldn't have been anything good, can it? Such a condition can only be caused by extreme violence! I mean, I'm not a bad person, why... why would anyone... I... I am so scared and I-I just can't-" There her voice failed her and she burst out crying definitely.

In an instant she was enwrapped by her father's arms. They felt larger than usual, like wings of an angel that attempted to protect her from any evil now that too much harm had already been done. Her head rested against his chest, as he whispered in the most soothing tone: "Shh, I'm here, noone can hurt you, I'm here. If you don't want to think about it you don't have to. Shh..." When one of the policemen cleared his throat and was about to approach her again, the sudden change in his behaviour almost made the nurse jump. "_Goddammit_, you just won't stop badgering her, will you?!", he snapped at them, baring his teeth like one of those wild animals in his australian neighbourhood.

The tension in the room was almost tangible, until the elderly woman turned to the two uniformed men. "Perhaps you better leave Miss Norwood be for a moment, so that we can all settle our minds, her in particular."

Detective Inspector Hume exchanged a look with his collegue and gave the nurse a nod then. Victoria's father watched them retreat, the hostility fading from his face and even when Hume turned around again, he didn't object. "Don't you worry, Miss,", the inspector said as quietly as emphatically. "whoever did this to you _will_ be arrested and undergo proper punishment."

His words still resounded in her head when the policemen and the nurse were already gone.

She didn't know if those men who'd kidnapped her had gotten what they deserve, but, in all honesty to herself, she didn't care. Her tears didn't originate from thinking about _them_.

"_I was _found_ on a stree_t" She'd risked her life to save the man in the suit, had kept those criminals from finishing him off and had gone through exreme agony in doing so. She'd proven herself as more than a bystander, an ordinary hostage, and still he'd left her here... He'd left her without telling her who he was. Victoria had no clue about her knight's identity. She would never have the chance to thank him for saving her or charging him with simply dropping her off at the hospital. No, she would never see him again. The time for miracles was over. Forever.


	6. Fare Thee Well, Arsehole

**_Author's Note: We're slowly getting there :D_**

**_ENJOY AND REVIEW PLEASE!_**

* * *

**Fare Thee Well, Arsehole**

"_How is she?_"

Lydia kept staring into the cream-coloured living room. Her mother had sunk into her usual spot on the couch, watching one of her favourite soap operas. It would've been an absolutely ordinary picture, if it wasn't for Victoria, sluggishly sitting next to her, empty eyes directed at the screen as well. "Unchanged, I'm afraid." Light-footed, in order to not disturb her relative's calm, she walked back to the large, old fashioned desk. It didn't take much for her to avoid getting entangled to her corded telephone's cable, since she was already used to carrying it around in her office. The wood-panelled walls and overstuffed bookshelves of this room had always had a calming effect on her, but now not even this environment could change anything about her marred mood.

It'd been over 3 weeks now that Victoria was discharged from hospital, but even though her physical injuries seemed to be healed up almost completely, her mental ones definitely didn't. Since their arrival at home, she'd rarely left the house, hadn't really gotten any work done, neither in the household nor for career reasons, and apparently preferred to lounge about in sweatpants lately - she'd been an absolute refusenik of such formerly. She even strove against therapy on the grounds that she wouldn't say a word there anyway, since she still couldn't remember anything from what happened to her and refused to talk about it in general. Sometimes, when Victoria was sitting there at the window of her room, pensively staring down to people passing by, an almost unbearable feeling of helplessness overcame Lydia, which was why she was glad about every single call from her ex-husband. He worried about their daughter just as much as she did and, even though it didn't change a thing about the situation, that was sort of soothing.

"_What about that play you were talking about? She loves acting so much, perhaps this could be the key to finding back to normality._"

"Perhaps..." Lydia fought back the urge to correct his 'loves' to 'loved', since judging from her daughter's present state of depression they couldn't be entirely sure if there was still passion left for anything at all. However, slipping into someone else's character could actually help her to retrieve her own again, like casting a greyed skin to reveal the smooth, shimmering one underneath. "I will try to make and help her learn her lines, although it will be very difficult with her current concentration and motivation issues..."

"_Oh, you'll make it! I've seen you motivate a penguin to fly once - it more like went flying when you failed at holding it correctly, admittedly, but flying was definitely involved - this must be a cinch for you._"

She closed her eyes, smirking a little. "Remember me to slap you for that one next time we meet."

"_Uh-uh, don't even try to threaten me, woman, I've grown horny skin on my upper arm, I'm invincible!_"

"You're an idiot."

"_That too._" As he received no reply, his voice changed, adopted this soft tone of his that even made the largest storms subside. "_Everything's going to be fine, you'll see. Victoria's gone through a lot and she just needs a bit of time and space now._"

"You're right..." She sighed, rubbing over the bridge of her nose. "I'll call as soon as there is news."

"_Don't beat yourself up, Lyd, you're doing amazingly great._"

A warm smile spread across her face, before she hung up. It didn't last long, though. Soon the already all too familiar expression of concern occupied her features. She stood up, took one last deep breath and entered the living room then.

Her family members were still in the exact position as earlier, seemingly hadn't moved a bit. Lydia put on a smile and took a seat on the couch's arm next to her daughter. "Is this a good show?"

Victoria shrugged, not taking her eyes from the screen once.

"It seems quite enjoyable, although the acting of this girl there leaves much to be desired... You'd have delivered a way better performance. Look how stiff she is!"

"Shh!", he own mother rebuked her.

She glared at her shortly, which the old lady didn't even notice, and turned to Victoria again. "But you wouldn't want to be part of such cheap soap operas, would you? You said you're more into theatre, right?"

Her daughter shifted, a sign she was actually listening. With a very quiet voice she replied: "Right."

"How's that play going? This modern, twisted version of _King Lear _you told me about. I heard you talking on the phone with its director yesterday."

"Yes, I did." Victoria began to chew her lip. "Apparently my understudy's acting skills are beneath contempt as well. He politely asked me to recover faster and come back soon..."

Lydia's brows raised. "Great! So-"

"I told him I don't know yet.", Victoria clarified before her mother could pour a rain of enthusiasm over her.

"Oh..." She tried to obscure it, but the disappointment in her voice could be discerned clearly. "Well,", she started again, anxious to speak in a more confident tone. "I'm sure you'll be ready before the premier! If you want me to I'd gladly help you practising!"

Victoria sighed in an irritated way, finally tearing her eyes away from the TV. "It's not that easy, Mum."

"I... I didn't say anything about it being easy, but we could try to-"

"Dammit, you really think slipping into a role is like slipping into a bloody jumper, do you?!"

"SHH!"

Victoria snarled, leapt to her feet and marched out.

Her sudden blaze of anger had taken Lydia off guard. For a moment she just stared after at her furious daughter, then followed her quickly. A strict tone rang in her voice, as she reached the entrance hall and saw Victoria throw on her coat: "Where do you think you're going, young lady?"

"Out.", was the curt reply she received.

"It's already getting dark, you can't leave the house _now_!"

"I can and I will."

Lydia sighed. "Fine. If you need fresh air then go and get some, but I won't let you go out there all on your own."

She reached for her coat, but Victoria grabbed it first. "What I need is to get away from _you_ and _nan_ for a while, so let it be and leave me alone!"

"No, I won't! The last time I left you alone-"

"- is so long ago I can't even remember!", the young woman snapped at her. "Since my stay at the hospital I haven't been alone. What part of '_I need space_' do you not understand?"

Her choice of words made Lydia frown. She'd never heard her daughter speak in such a disrespectful way - she herself had ensured her children to learn how to behave properly and watch one's language, even if they were enraged - though, it wasn't that surprising. The councelors she had taken advice of had told her that depression caused changes of the mood. And, actually, her daughter was right. She hadn't granted her one single unattended second out of fear that whatever happened to her could recur. Perhaps, treating her like an actual adult would help her find back to normality.

"Alright... But take this with you." She opened the hallstand's uppermost drawer and took a whistle and a small yellow aerosol can out.

Victoria didn't seem impressed, as she was handed them. "You do know that pepper spray can be used against you easily."

"I feel better if you wear it with you."

"If you think..." She didn't linger over bidding goodbye, simply turned around and marched out the front door.

"Take care!", her mother called after her in the most worried tone, but Victoria stubbornly kept on stomping down the road. She was already sick of hearing that concerned voice everyone around her made use of lately, especially the one of her mother. Since her prep-school years she hadn't had to bear such care from others, however, they didn't understand, nobody did. They hadn't seen what she'd seen, they hadn't experienced what she'd experienced. They knew nothing about what this world actually had to offer, what she'd been shown by the man in the suit.

Victoria could still feel the unfamiliar fabric of his sleeve as she had grasped it, could still smell his pleasant scent braving the stench of blood or sweat completely, could still see every strand of his brown hair sticking out from under her provisional bandage. However, she had no name, no telephone number, location, workplace, or anything else that could help finding him, as if he never existed actually. Sometimes, when she recalled the events of that night, it, indeed, seemed like being nothing more than a dream her subconscious made up, in order to let her escape this boring life of hers for one moment, because as much as she had believed it to be extraordinary or, at least, having the potential of becoming extraordinary once she managed to gain foothold in the world of theatre ultimately, now Victoria knew better. Her life was ordinary, excruciatingly ordinary. It exhausted her, made her feel empty. Even acting couldn't change a thing about it. It just simulated being in one of those amazing worlds, was sort of a demo-version of the persons she could have become but would never be now.

Victoria's striding steps became more and more slowly, until she came to a stand fully, staring holes into the fresh winter air with her arms folded.

Indeed, acting consisted of nothing more than imitating those exceptional adventures she now knew actually existed out there, but wasn't an imitation of an adventure better than no adventure at all? Perhaps her mother was right in trying to motivate her to resume her old passion... No, she wasn't passionate about acting anymore, nor about anything else except thinking of her experiences with the man in the suit. An oppressive feeling was already unleashed only by considering to... But maybe... maybe only one attempt... maybe it _was_ worth it...

Victoria let out a deep sigh, rubbed her face with both hands and dug them into her long, uncombed hair while looking up to the darkening sky. Every part of her body screamed "_No_!", resisted against her intentions, though, finally, she shoved all doubts and bad feelings towards them aside and started moving again. Before she could change her mind about it, she took a route she hadn't taken for quite a while.

* * *

If her glare just had more intensity, perhaps it would show more effect then, since the man it was directed at didn't seem bothered at all.

'Bullocks', Victoria thought. She really would have liked to punish this so-called director for his unbelieveable behaviour, but, in fact, she didn't have the strength to muster up the essential fury to do so. As nervous as she'd been about her decision to rejoin the team around this awful play - of course she had known about today's rehearsal, she just hadn't planned to show up there actually - now she felt as empty as before.

The moment she'd entered the 'theatre' had been exciting, indeed, since suddenly the people that knew her dropped everything to welcome her properly, fully hyper by surprise. 'How are you?', 'You look great!'and 'I'm so glad you could come!' were just a few of the empty phrases the square-chinned director'd battered her with, making her feel more and more uncomfortable due to the sudden storm of vivacity and interest she was met with. She knew he didn't care about her well-being, knew she didn't look anything near pretty - good gracious, she almost felt guilty for not being embarressed by her worn-out face with its dark shadows beneath the eyes and reddened spots everywhere... almost - though, he _had_ been glad to see her. Even though this girl had had more than a month to reasonably learn her lines, Victoria who, at most, had glanced at the script once or twice in the same time was way more word-perfect than her understudy. And still... as soon as she'd entered the stage all friendliness had been forgotten and this teenage-fluff-pillock of a director had relapsed into old behavioural patterns, criticising the hell out of each of the actors and actresses and not allowing any back talk, even if they were productive objections. Victoria wished she was home, lying on the couch and watching TV with her grandmother, simply unwind and, for at least one moment, forget about the futility of her life.

"No, no, NO!", the director sighed into this ridiculous baby-beard of his, rubbing his forehead, before already spitting his verbal poison all over the young actor Victoria and the others were surrounding on stage. The poor boy looked so frightened, had probably never gotten such a hostile feedback before.

Victoria shivered. The iciness in this man's voice must have assumed shape within her. While he kept denigrating the beginner, she slowly turned around and picked up the coat she'd simply dropped to the stage floor earlier.

Her mother'd wanted to trash it, not only because of the, on this black surface admittedly difficult to spot, bloodstains the cleaners hadn't been able to remove, but also because she'd feared it could freak her daughter out once she'd 'regained her memory'. However, Victoria had insisted on keeping it. After all it was a very elegant, comfortable piece of clothing and, more importantly, the only one remaining from that night. Everything else had been littered.

Meanwhile the young boy had started crying and rushed off the stage now, infuriating Mr Pathetic-Beard even more. Everyone seemed very uncomfortable with the situation, exchanged looks with each other, in order to agree on an appropriate reaction, whereas Victoria just stood there, gazing into space and playing with the junk in her coat pockets. The boredom was almost unbearable, as she waited for instructions, stirred about the papers of sweets she couldn't remember to have eaten, took a small card between them out to read its content, pocketed it again and froze then.

It took a moment to overcome the shock, then she took the small, rectangular piece of paper out once more.

_Thank you very much for your assistance_

_H.H._

The words seemed to be written down in a hurry, but the handwriting was still beautifully cursive and neat.

Staring at it, Victoria began to breathe heavily. Her heart was racing and her head spinning. She'd never seen this note before, she hadn't put it there. It hadn't been in her pockets before that night also.

It was from him. The man in the suit. There was no doubt in that. And he thanked her for her 'assistance'. H.H... Those were his initials. _Victoria'd got his initials_.

Euphoria hit her like a demolition ball, almost making her cry out. A wide grin spread over her face and she began to tremble with excitement, making her clutch the note even stronger to not drop this precious, precious thing accidently. How long had it been in her pockets without her knowing? All those bad feelings in the last weeks, her whole depression... absolutely unnecessary! Victoria could slap herself for not looking earlier and laugh in frustration. But it didn't matter anyway. What mattered was that she had found this note and what it meant for her now...

"Victoria!" The slightly irritated voice let her snap back to reality. Seemingly, everyone had taken their positions again, even the young one, although his eyes were still red and he snivelled loudly every now and then. "Get in character now. We'll repeat that scene.", the director stated in an annoyed tone with his thumb pressed against one brow and his lids squeezed together.

Victoria didn't reply, didn't move at all, and still he gave the stage a wave, the sign to begin. She looked at the others, who quickly slipped into their roles and began to play. While one rose to speak, completely exaggerating because the Mr. Baby-Beard had told him to do so, Victoria pocketed the note again, though, instead of following the orders of the man sitting in fourth row, she just stepped forward to the young guy whose hands were still shaking and put her own calm one on his shoulder.

"Don't worry. It's not always like that. He' s only butchering a beautifully tragical piece with his amateur ideas. He's not a real director."

She didn't look at him, but judging from the shocked tone in his voice she could tell that the director's expression as a reaction to what she'd just said loudly was priceless. "Victoria, what the hell are you-!" With a stretched out pointing finger she made him hush.

"Real directors are open to objections and suggestions for improvement and are constantly anxious to make their team feel comfortable.", she explained calmly. Then she gave the confused young man a bright smile which she kept wearing when dismounting the stage.

The director's face went red with rage. "VICTORIA, IF YOU DON'T-"

"'_The weight of this sad time we must obey,_'", she interrupted him again in a volume that made her voice resound in the small hall and walked past him as if he wasn't even there. "'_Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. The oldest hath borne most: we that are young shall never see so much, nor live so long._'" She finally turned to the man, who just couldn't grasp what was happening, and, therefore, to the others on stage. "I quit. And you all should follow me in doing so. This is just a waste of time and will not do any good to your résumé." Again a grin seized her features, as she addressed the wide-eyed director and opened her arms in a dramatic gesture, bowing low. "And with this, I will leave you. _Fare thee well_, arsehole!" Victoria flipped her hair back and left the small theatre at a quick pace, since she could hardly wait to finally start her search.


	7. Picking Up the Scent

**_Author's Note: THANK YOU to all who favourited and are following the story! Special thanks to _wolviegurl_, _BeckyBoo12221_, _First Lady Lestat_ and _****joycelyn. ****_! You guys MADE MY DAY! I dedicate this new chap to you, dearies :)_**

**_ENJOY, YOU AWESOME PEOPLE!_**

* * *

**Picking Up the Scent**

Frowning, she kept rubbing the cloth between her fingers. When Victoria finally left hold of it with a shake of her head, she saw the tall man to her left straighten, as if he was suppressing his anger. As obliging as he had seemed when she'd entered the shop, now his true, impatient nature was breaking out. At least he wasn't as uncivil as the owner of that car hire she'd begun her search with.

It had occurred the most evident to her to start there, since renting a car, which H.H. must have done also, contained signing a contract and such, which would hopefully lead her to her knight's full name. Initials were all well and good, but they certainly wouldn't be enough to find the man in the suit. However, this rude guy at the car rental - there'd only been one near the forest she presumed her kidnappers had brought her - had refused to give her an insight to his client's files, had even had the cheek to tell her to "Sod off!", but after Victoria'd threatened to slip the police the information about him hiring out vehicles with severe saftey defects - after all the driver's airbag hadn't functioned correctly that night or had been missing completely - he'd gotten nervous. In the end, though, it'd been pointless anyway, since first of all, the man in the suit had paid the man some extra cash for not having to indicate any contact data except a telephone number and his name apparently, and secondly said name seemed to be fake. It was much more likely that the initials he'd given her yielded his true name, not something as trivial as 'Oliver Anderson'. And this fake telephone number hadn't gotten her anywhere as well.

It had been a setback, but only a temporary one. Victoria hadn't let herself give up. She still had a few clues to follow. She knew what he looked like, she knew, judging from the way he had been speaking, he belonged to the british upper class, which was why she'd gotten her teeth into her mother's address book next, but she couldn't find anyone with the initials H.H. in there too. Therefore, making use of her senses had been the only option left.

Victoria had always had an incredible ability to grasp details effortlessly and now an opportunity to prove that had presented itself. As much as she rememberred H.H.'s language behaviour, she also rememberred particulars like how different his bespoke suit had felt like, which was why she'd begun to traipse round various tailor shops to take a look at their patterns of cloth. However, this hadn't been crowned with success yet and neither would it be here in this backroom of the shop she currently stood in.

"What was it now, Miss?", the young man asked, forcing a smile to his lips.

"I'm afraid I lack in the essential terminology. The fabric I am looking for just felt more..." Victoria bit her bottom lip, recalling the feeling of the navy-blue sleeve. "... more... dense. More tearproof."

He raised his dark brows in disbelief. "More tearproof? Miss, the patterns I just showed you are of the highest quality material there is. We carry nothing but the best here, you have my word."

"That may be true, Sir, I can only tell you what I know, and what I know is that, compared to the patterns you showed me the suit I've seen felt more tearproof." She walked past him, back to the main room and its large counter. It was a greatly modern looking tailor shop, furnished with abstract tables and couches that ought to resemble loops of measuring tape. Dozens of glass balls were hanging from the ceiling, illuminated the already bright walls and let the few mannequins standing amidst the room throw long shadows on the floor. Victoria should've known that this here would amount to just another failure. Her knight's suit had been in a far more classic fashion than anything sold here.

"Perhaps you are mistaken, Miss." The tall, slim man took his original position behind the counter again, although the 'original' was spoiled by his now slightly sagging shoulders. Somehow, Victoria wasn't sorry for being a difficult customer, though. "Your memory could play a trick on you."

"Out of the question. I am dead sure about it."

He sighed. "Well, _if_ there was such a material more tearproof than anything we're offering, you will not find it at most of London's tailors. The cooperation between us includes that we all receive the exact same fabrics."

"You said '_most_ of London's tailors'. Are there any excepted from this general cooperation?"

"There are a few more independent businesses, indeed. However, I doubt that any of them carries much different materials than we do."

"Would you be so kind and give me a list of them, though?"

He straightened once more, a sign that he strove against accommodating her request, but, eventually, he nodded and began to write on a notepad. "In case you actually get to find this 'amazingly' dense fabric, which I query, I would be glad if you could give me a call." He ripped the piece of paper he'd scribbled on off and gave it to her with a pejorative smile. "Maybe _you_ can make me believe in miracles, Miss."

She mirrored his expression. "I will, Sir."

Only when she had left the shop behind the next corner, she allowed herself to let the triumphant grin vanish from her lips. She didn't want this arrogant beanpole to see the uncertainty in her eyes, as she was looking at the list in her hands. She'd never heard of most of the addresses scrawled next to the tailor's names, which implied that these shops were located in more outlying areas of London, since Victoria knew the inner districts of her hometown in and out. Maybe it was just her high-society spoiled mind, but she couldn't imagine her knight's extraordinary suit being a creation by some unknown tailor living in an undiscoverable side street. Although... this could be advantageous for someone as mysterious and with so many secrets as H.H.. But maybe it was these expectations that rather made him go to a more renowned tailor shop like on of those in Savile Row - it was a meeting place for Britain's best tailors, as she knew, and 3 of the ones on the list called it their home as well, "Gieves &amp; Hawkes", "Kingsman &amp; Sons" and "Henry Poole &amp; Co.". Or _this_ was what he expected. Or the other way round... She simply didn't know. And she didn't have to. There was no point of spending thoughts on why he chose a certain shop, main thing was that she found it, which hopefully _was_ one on her list. As this salesman had just told her, all the others had the same range of materials. There would only be some left that he didn't know of, probably, but what if those didn't turn out to be the one either? It was truly possible that H.H. had gotten his clothes somewhere else than the capital city, but Victoria could hardly search all England, let alone the rest of the world, could she? But if she failed here, what was she going to do then? Which clue was she supposed to follow? And how?

No. Stop. She wouldn't waste one single thought on this topic anymore. Last week she'd already had a panic attac when she'd thought about failing only once and it had cost her half a day to recover. She wouldn't let that happen again. She would succeed here and if not she certainly would be able to think of another way to find the man in the suit.

Letting her face adopt determined features again, Victoria took a quick look at her wrist watch, then at the list in her hands.

Most probably, visiting the outlying shops would take a while and recent events, in which her mother had almost had a breakdown when her daughter had been nowhere to be found when she'd gotten home from work, had shown that not being home on time was unfavourable. The end of Victoria's depression sadly hadn't diminished her mother's overprotectiveness, quite the opposite, her sudden change of mood had only stirred up suspicion, caused by misinterpritations of consulting psychologists. They had no idea what they were talking about - Victoria had still not spilled anything about that night and wouldn't do that in the future also - but, naturally, their warnings had had a huge effect on her mother and after trying to calm her down, telling her that there was nothing to worry about, hadn't worked, she simply tried her best to not give her mother any reason to freak out once again. So... option B then.

Victoria pocketed the list and already made a move, quickly remembering the way to Savile Row.

* * *

The reflecting glass slightly blocked the view on them, though, that didn't lessen their splendour. Victoria had stopped to spend a minute on marvelling at those wonderful suit coats displayed in the shop window of _Kingsman &amp; Sons_. Many 'high-borns' her age tend to rebel against the dresscoat of their parent's social circle, choosing a more modern, more casual look. Maybe it was her mother's influence, maybe it was the way it automatically changed people's behaviour like some charm of a good fairy, but she herself had always been more attracted to elegant wear. Slipping into an evening dress, a pencil skirt or even an ordinary yet fashionable trouser suit had already made her grin like a cheshire cat as a little girl, in case her mother'd allowed her to try her own outfits on, and only seeing such sophisticated attire had a similar effect on her.

It was hard for her to take her eyes off of these classy garments, but after all she wasn't here to gape at this shop's items. As cautiously as possible she pushed the entrance door open and stepped into a tailor's shop strongly contrasting to the others she'd visited before. Whilst the _Gieves &amp; Hawkes_ shop and the one with the slightly rude salesman had been kept in bright colours mostly, attemting to create a more trendy atmosphere, _Kingsman_ banked on the kind of vintage style Victoria absolutely adored. Half of the walls was panelled with a rather dark sort of wood, mahogany perhaps, whereas the other half was hanged with an aesthetic forest green wallpaper, on which stuffed heads of stags and old photographs - one was of the Queen, of course - flaunted as well. The brown tones of the furniture only contributed to the comfortable ambience, with cosy looking chairs and a couch in the front and highly polished, old-fashioned tables and shelfs, all of them carrying folders and textiles of various colours, in the back. However, it was neiher the golden shining chandelier and lamps in here, nor the persian red carpet on the floor that gave Victoria a special feeling of warmth and ease, but the kind smile of the elderly gentleman, probably in his late fifties, standing behind the counter at the very back of the room.

"Good afternoon, Miss. How may I help you?"

Anxious to not accidently trip over the carpet in her heeled boots, she walked up to him. "Good afternoon, Sir. Well, basically, I am looking for a very special sort of material. Unfortunately, I don't know its proper name, I only know what it feels like and I was looking for it in several shops now without success. A gentleman in one in Westminster was able to help me to narrow it down to these at least..."

He eyed the list she handed him. "So... you would like to have a look at our patterns, am I right?"

Victoria'd been prepared for delivering an even longer explanation after the people in _Gieves &amp; Hawkes_ had demanded such, which was why she needed a moment to collect herself. Then she laughed lightly. "Long story short, yes. If that's no trouble for you, of course."

"Not at all, Miss.", the man replied, the warm smile returning to his face, as he already turned around. "Would you please follow me..."

There was a staircase right behind him, probably leading to an additional workroom or even appartments - it was a rather old business after all and as a tailor and owner of such business it had been usual to live right above one's place of work in the past, Victoria presumed - however, the elderly man walked over to the door beside it, which he held open for her now.

The room it lead to fully lived up to her expectations. It was of the exact same style as the main one, though, the wood panelling was not to see anyway due to all the shelfs in front of them. There also was a large table in the back that carried thick folders and several scissors of different sizes, but the cloths the shelfs were crammed full of, caught Victoria's attention exclusively.

"You mentioned you would know what it felt like only. What sort of material are you looking for then, Miss?"

"It was particularly tearproof, felt extremely dense, but at the same time quite flexible, suitable for more... vigorous movements."

He nodded thoughtfully and elegantly moved past her then, pointing with his palms at an area of the shelfs to the right. "_If_ we carry what you are looking for, then here. These are our best pieces in ter-"

He looked up, when a creak originating from someone setting foot on the staircase rang out. Instantly, but in a rather patient way, the gentleman approached the door again. "Would you excuse me for a moment, Miss? Feel free to inspect our patterns in the meantime. I know how similar some might seem at first, so I will close the door that you can fully concentrate on the touch."

She gave him a bright smile. "Very kind of you, Sir, thank you very much."

Once more he returned it, before already leaving her alone.

Being the only person in the room, she now noticed more details, such as a slightly musty smell, but it had a rather calming effect than a disturbing one, similar to the one in a library. Not all of the folders on the table seemed to be filled with even more textile patterns, but with paper, designs for customers perhaps, and Victoria would love to have a look at them, though, that certainly wasn't her reason for being here.

She began right at the top of the area the man had been pointing at and it soon became clear that he hadn't lied about them being some of their best fabrics. They _were_ dense, they _were_ flexible, would probably make a more than high quality suit, however... none of them was the one H.H.'s suit had been made of.

As Victoria squatted down to attend to the patterns below, a certain thought crept into her mind, accompanied by an oppressive feeling. What if this arrogant salesman had been right and her senses played a trick on her? She knew that sometimes one rememberred events in a totally different light than they actually were and Victoria had been seriously injured, additionally. Perhaps she messed something up in her mind, talked herself into believing in those pecularities concerning her knight. What if he'd worn an absolutely normal suit, made of one of these materials here right in front of her, but she simply refused to believe it?

Victoria closed her eyes for a moment, running her hand through her soft dark hair. All these swings of moods, all these suddenly occuring doubts exhausted her, even though they were totally groundless.

She rememberred everything of that night _clearly_. She was absolutely right in her assumption that her rescuer's suit must have been made of some special material, a material she wouldn't find _here_.

With a sigh she stood up again.

"I am sorry, I couldn't - Oh." There was noone there, when she opened the door.

She hadn't payed attention to anything happening outside due to her absorption in touching her way through their patterns. Judging from the entrance door clicking shut the elderly gentleman or a customer must have left the shop just in this moment.

Cautiously, Victoria stepped out into the main room, loudly saying "Hello?", whereupon footsteps from above were to hear, but there was something else that baffled her. There was a smell in here, almost not perceivable, that reminded her of something, a certain pleasant scent...

"I apologise, Miss.", the man from earlier said, hurrying down the stairs. "There have been business matters I needed to attend to."

Victoria's eyes didn't meet his, were fixed on a small stack of paper on the counter she hadn't noticed before, but peered at now that the writing on some of them seemed very familiar either.

"Excuse me, please.", she murmured, leaving the confused man behind, as she simply got out of the shop at a rapid pace.

Quickly, she looked the street up and down, tried to take in the appearances of the few people in Savile Row,... and then she spotted a man in a taxi that just turned the corner, a man in a bespoke suit, with brown hair and a face she would never forget.

Victoria's heart skipped a beat, her eyes widened. At the top of her lungs she screamed: "STOP!", before already dashing off.

She hadn't been running since that night, hadn't been involved in any kind of physical exercise at all and Victoria was sure that it would excite her to feel the wind rush through her hair, blowing her coat back, if she wasn't so completely focused. Not only once she let the man in the taxi out of sight, not even when she realised that the street she followed the vehicle to was way more crowded than Savile Row. At top speed, she shoved the people in her way to the side, constantly uttering an "Excuse me" and "Sorry" in doing so, almost tripped over some dog lead, rallied quickly and fixed her senses on the taxi again. However, the distance between her and her target became bigger and bigger nonetheless. Victoria's thoughts were racing just like her heart, as she tried to guess the cars' planned route. She could be totally wrong about her assumption and lose it thereby, but if she didn't act now she'd lose it anyway, so without further hesitation she turned into the side street to her right, where there were less people, but more bistro tables.

A woman cried out as Victoria jumped over hers, waiters shouted after her, she couldn't care less. Faster, faster and faster she ran, driving herself to maximum performance, especially when she saw the taxi drive past the side street's end.

As Victoria jumped out, she missed it only by a metre. With widened eyes, she looked after it. Immediately she shot ahead again, this time a bit more slowly to be able to take off her left shoe.

"STOP, DAMN IT, STOP!", she shrieked, running, hurled the shoe and hit the taxi's rear window. It stopped instantly and its passenger got out quickly, a stern look on his face, but before he was even able to grasp the situation, Victoria already flung her arms around his neck, almost knocking him over as she crashed into him.

Puffing and blowing, shivering uncontrolably, she clung to the man in the suit, the man she'd been looking for so long, and panted over and over again: "I found you. I found you..."


	8. Agent Harry Hart

**_Author's Note: Originally I wanted to post this a few days ago, but I'm currently in Greece (Corfu) and they only have WIFI in their lobby... and their WIFI sucks xD Aaanyway, I can't say how much your reviews mean to me! Thank you all sooo so much o mY BELLAMY EXCUSE ME WHILE I JUMP INTO THIS HOTEL'S POOL FILLED WITH MY OWN TEARS OF HAPPINESS._**

**_Hope you all enjoy this chapter as well :D_**

* * *

**Agent Harry Hart**

There she sat, stiff like a statue, not daring to blink and lose sight of the man sitting across from her. Victoria was well aware that she looked a mess, still she didn't intend to go to the bathroom to fix her appearance for the simple reason that she didn't want to let _him_ alone. The probability that he just left her behind again was still too high at her discretion, despite all the politeness he had evinced since the moment she'd finally found him.

He had been so confused, so dumbfounded as she'd been clinging to him like a scared child to its mother, nonetheless he'd switched to gentleman mode quite fast, had cautiously pushed her away from him, asking her to get in the car, before he'd collected her thrown shoe, which she'd already forgotten about. He had told the quietly laughing taxi's driver to get them to the nearest restaurant, where the waiter had just led them to a window seat. Passing people outside gaped at them as if they were exhibition pieces, however, Victoria didn't pay any attention to that. She couldn't, even if she wanted to. It had all happened so fast that she was still too busy staring herself, staring at H.H., her rescuer, the man in the suit.

He wasn't wearing a navy-blue, but a cambridge grey plaid suit now, perfectly matching the maroon of his tie. Without his glasses he'd put into his breast pocket he looked a bit younger than the last time she'd seen him, however, this absolutely didn't tarnish his aura, which was why his indicating nod up was the only thing that let her snap back to reality and notice the waiter next to her.

"Miss, to drink?", the man repeated in a more urging yet polite tone.

Totally caught off-guard, Victoria tried to concentrate and quickly studied the drink menu right in front of her. "Uhm..." She gave the waiter a smile. "Highland Park 12 in a copita, please, and add a drop of water. Thank you."

H.H.'s raised brows and slightly amused expression told her that he didn't expect her to order something like that or the way she did so, especially as he followed with a simple: "A glass of soda, please."

As the waiter walked off, Victoria felt herself blush a little and laughed awkwardly. "I beg your pardon, I just need something stronger concerning the... uh... circumstances."

He smiled at her, shortly waving his hand. "It's absolutely understandable, don't worry." For a moment it seemed like H.H. examined her face, almost making her uncomfortable by that, before he began to speak again. "Well, I presume you have many questions to ask, and so do I, so how about we skip small talk and start quizzing each other right away?"

The sudden change of topic took her by surprise, still she nodded - a tad too fiercly, perhaps.

"Good." He straightened, interlacing his fingers. "Ladies first."

Immediately she began to rummage about in her pockets to take out a sheet of paper folded so many times it was only an inch wide and unfolded it, talking ten to the dozen: "I compiled a list of all names beginning with H I could come up with, but soon I ran out of more, so, additionally, I wanted to write out some more of the phone directory, but then I thought 'How probable is it that he is called Hortensius?' or something similar ludicrous. So, taking probability into account, I came to the conclusion that it would be the best thing to narrow it down to the most common ones, so..." She pushed the list towards him. "Harry or Henry?"

At first, she thought she might have said something wrong, since H.H. simply looked down at the two circled names with a blank expression, - was his name Hortensius after all? - then, however, she saw amusement flash in his eyes and a smirk played around the corners of his lips.

As nervous as she'd been before, now euphoria seized her entirely. "It is one of them?"

One second he hesitated, then gave her a nod.

"Which one?"

"What do you think?"

The joy certainly didn't vanish from her face, but it visibly adopted more pensive features now. Even when the waiter came to serve their drinks, she didn't take her eyes from her counterpart - she wasn't as inactive as before, though, and managed to give her thanks - examining him as if his appearance could give some indication of the correct answer. Had the taxi driver called him by name earlier? Or the elderly salesman in _Kingsman &amp; Sons_, when she was still analysing their patterns and didn't consciously listen to what happened outside? No, she didn't think so or at least she couldn't remember, no matter how hard she tried. It bothered her to have been so unobservant at that precise moment that could have been so revealing. Was he a Harry or a Henry? Chances were 50:50. Harry or Henry...

Victoria took a deep breath. "Harry.", she said eventually, displaying no whit of uncertainty in her voice.

And, indeed, a wide smile spread over her opposite's face again, implying that she'd chosen rightly.

"Well,", he rose to speak. "I guess a proper introduction would only be appropriate now." He extended his hand. "Harry Hart. It's a pleasure to meet you... again."

Grinning like a cheshire cat, Victoria clasped it. "Victoria Davies-Norwood."

"Oh, I know."

She frowned for a second, but, actually, it was no surprise to her that he knew that. After all he was not any ordinary man.

"My turn to ask a question.", the extraordinary man continued. "How did you find me?"

There was still a smile on his face, however, Victoria sensed a change of mood about him. It wasn't exactly threatening, rather a very subtle bitterness and increased attention, probably because he was trying to figure out which mistake he must have commited to lead her to him, which was why Victoria, after a short pause to adapt herself to the sudden tension, quickly stated: "Well, it definitely wasn't easy." She took a sip from her whiskey, tasting the aroma develop in her mouth, while searching for the right words to show him that it wasn't his fault. In the end she considered it best to just tell him everything, from the failure at the car renting, via her search through all those tailor shops, through to when she'd perceived his fragrance in this tailor shop - it was a bit embarrassing to admit that, but now was not the time to be reticent. He visibly relaxed eventually, appeared rather satisfied and a little astonished than cautious.

"You seem to be endowed with quite a talent for perception, Miss Davies-Norwood."

"It is advantageous mostly. But..." A smirk seized Victoria's lips. "... they definitely are not as stunning skills as being able to drive a car at full speed without having to look forward, or checkmating half a dozen armed men with almost nothing but an..." She tilted her head to demonstratively look at Hart's 'companion' leaning against the wall next to him. "... umbrella. Which leads me to _my_ next question:" Assuring that nobody else was listening their conversation she leant a bit over the table, lowering her voice. "Which organisation are you working for?"

His expression when he imitated her posture was utterly unreadable, even for Victoria. "What do you mean?"

She turned the sheet of paper from earlier around, reading her own notes while talking. "You mentioned someone or something of the name 'Merlin' that night. Is this the name of your organisation? Or some kind of coordination centre?"

"You regard me as some kind of James Bond, am I right?", he chuckled.

"So it is the MI6?"

He sighed, obviously getting slightly annoyed. "Miss Norwood-"

"You don't need to bother, Mr. Hart.", she interrupted him in a serious tone. "We both know what you are and now I require you to come clean with me, because you owe me to."

Hart frowned. "I owe you?"

"Well, yes. I saved your life, remember?"

"I was in total control of the situation.", he quickly replied, shaking his head.

"In total control? You would be dead if I hadn't-"

"- darted at this man who attempted to shoot me from behind? No, I wouldn't. I was absolutely aware about his intentions and was already preparing for warding his attack off, but before I was able to do so you already took over. A well-meant deed, of course, but unnecessary. I owe you nothing."

For a long moment, there was no sound coming from their table, as Victoria just stared at her counterpart. Her mother had taught her that making a scene in public was improper for a lady and she'd always abided by that, however, now she had the strong urge to jump up and spill her drink all over his fancy suit. Was he really telling her she was responsible for all that agony she'd been through? Was he really meeting her with such cold logic?

Yet again she leant forward, trying not to snarl at him and, instead, speak in a firm tone, emphasising every single word: "I have been in intensive care for four whole days." She placed the note she'd been carrying with her all the time the last weeks on the table. While she continued, her opposite's eyes rested on his own writing, saying 'Thank you very much for your assistance'. "Because I helped you! And you didn't even have the good grace to properly hospitalise me, simply dropped me on the dirty ground of their entrance!"

"This is not correct.", he cut in without looking up.

"You can't fool me. I spoke to the hospital staff. They found me at the entrance, bleeding internally and heaven knows what else, and there was definitely no trace of_ you _anywhere!"

"It's only the attempt of their brains to fill the memory gaps I inflicted on them."

"... What do you mean?"

He finally took his gaze from the note. "There is a substance that, administered in the right dosis, can erase certain memories without causing further damage to the brain. I made use of it as soon as I have handed you over to two junior doctors and ventured my guesses concerning your injuries, so that they could prepare accordingly. I am sorry if their assumptions have caused you further emotional pain, but I assure you I have hospitalised you in the best way possible, concerning the circumstances."

Victoria didn't know what to respond. So many times she'd wondered why her rescuer would have done such a cruel thing as to throw her out of his car - paying no attention to her well-being after putting so much effort into getting her into safety simply didn't make sense - and now it turned out that she'd bothered for nothing. He _had _paid attention, he _had_ cared.

Slowly, she felt the anger within her subside. "Oh... uhm... Thank you...", she brought out quietly. Then she sighed, though, as she rememberred the actual topic and continued, sounding slightly distressed: "But that doesn't change anything about the fact that I have risked my life for you. Whether necessary or not, I defended you while you were unconscious. I simply could have bunked off, save myself a lot of pain, but instead I stayed and fought with everything I got, which is compared to your skills not much, indeed, but-"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you put your own life at risk to defend me, a complete stranger?"

"Well, because..." Victoria took a deep breath, but exhaled again as she was lost for words. She just wanted to come up with a witty answer, an answer that would make her seem just as logical thinking as him. "Because..." When she just couldn't think of one, she sighed once more. "Listen,", she began rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I am an actress, who lives with her mother and who is barely able to keep her head above water. There are only a handful of people I actually mean something to. You, however... You save people's lives. Not only mine. I have absolutely no idea what those guys were up to that night, but I'm sure they would have harmed many if you hadn't frustrated their plans. And the way you managed to do that left no doubt that it was not your first... mission. You are important. For everyone. A hundred, a thousand times more important than I am. I guess I risked my life for you because... I prioritised."

The look he gave her now, a piercing, pensive look, unsettled her so much that she quickly looked away and took another sip from her drink. It was awkward to tell someone one barely knew that his life was more worth than one's own, particularly as it indicated self-consciousness issues, which Victoria didn't have at all, but since she demanded him to tell her the truth, it was only fair to do the same. Still... The silence that prevailed between them now made her feel extremely uncomfortable.

Fortunately, Hart broke it soon: "You didn't tell anybody about me."

"No, I didn't. It would render the whole naming of secret agent void. That wasn't a question, though, now, was it?" It made her giggle a bit, when he imitated her gestures from earlier, taking a sip from his soda whilst acting like examining the restaurant. "So, you spied on me?"

"Not for long. I had to make sure you wouldn't blow my cover, especially not during that visit of the police, but it became clear quite soon that this wasn't your intention."

"Yes, it isn't. Because I am trustworthy." All amusement had gone from her face, had made way for a more stern, determined expression. "You try to conceal the truth from me because it's your job to do so, just like you hid it from the hospital staff. And you could have deleted my memory just as easily, however, you didn't. Instead you gave me this little thank-you note. Perhaps, you are not aware of it yourself, but I believe that there was a part of you which, for some reason, wanted me to find you. I deserve to know what the heck is going on and you know that all too well. Now stop trying to keep me from getting involved. I already am anyhow."

This time she didn't let his gaze upset her, simply held it, pierced him with her own.

"You think you have great knowledge of human nature, don't you, Miss Davies-Norwood?"

"I don't think so, Mr. Hart.", Victoria replied in the exact same quiet neutral tone. "I know I do."

The tension in the air was almost palpable as both of them refused to break eyecontact. Victoria felt the urge to move creep into her limbs, though, she ignored it, completely concentrated on her counterpart.

All of a sudden the silence was cut short, as Hart stopped a passing waiter, asking: "May I have the bill, please?"

Dumbfounded, Victoria let her rigid posture fall. She didn't even have the time to adjust to the situation, there her opposite had already paid and finished his soda. When he stood up, she quickly emptied her own glass - drinking half a glass of whiskey in one go wasn't such a great idea, though, since it made her shiver like a horse shedding flies - and followed suit. She tried to act like they'd actually agreed on leaving to not catch people's eyes due to a completely clueless expression on her face, led the way out as he'd asked her to with a polite gesture and allowed him to help her on with her coat without uttering a word. Only when they had both entered the taxi again - apparently the driver worked for Hart exclusively, somehow - and it got under way, she turned to him and burst out with: "Where are we going?"

"I need to meet up with my superior. We'll have to discuss further proceedings concerning you."

"You mean if you are going to let me in on it or..." Raising her brows, she slowly ran her fingers from one side of her neck to the other, which Hart seemed offended by.

"No, Miss Norwood. Of course, I will not harm you.", he responded in a slightly annoyed tone, showing his disapproval of her action.

"Well, you wouldn't admit to it in front of your victim beforehand, would you?"

He gave her a stern look, which changed as soon as he saw the smirk she couldn't keep her lips from forming. Smiling to himself, he shook his head lightly and looked out of the window to his right. Victoria followed his example with the one next to her.

The sun hat already set and made way for the warm light of the street lamps arranged in rows throughout the entire city, which usually would have a calming effect on Victoria, lull her and put her into this pleasant state of relaxation before sleep. Now, however, not even this could weaken the excitement within her.

Not only was she sitting right next to the man she'd been searching for for weeks, no, he was getting her to his superior and, therefore, drawing her into his incredible world. She had no idea what was awaiting her exactly, however, it certainly included a bright future, a future of adventure, of mystery, of sheer magnificence-

Her train of thought was abruptly interrupted, when the vehicle halted. She hadn't realised where they were heading to exactly due to her absorption, though, now that she lay eyes on the house to her left Victoria frowned.

"This is my home..." She turned to Hart, who didn't seem surprised at all. "Why are we halting at my home?"

"Well, the matter of your involvement can't be discussed right in front of you, can it? But don't worry I will pick you up as soon as a decision is made."

There the driver already opened her door, holding his hand out to her, however, she refused to take it, didn't budge an inch. "Oh no, I won't let you leave me here just like that! Where do I know from that you won't disappear without a trace again, maybe moving away this time to make sure to really get rid of me? I would find you nonetheless, of course, especially now that I know your name, Mr. Harry Hart, and that this _Kingsman_ tailoring has some relation to your work as well, otherwise you wouldn't have come from upstairs, however, it would be highly unpleasant and irritating to have to take up the chase again."

"Don't you trust me?"

"Should I?"

Once again he gave her this look that made her feel uncomfortable. "Probably not." He took something out of his inside pocket and handed it to her. "You can have my phone until I get in touch with you again, which presumably will be tomorrow."

It was a small black device, approximately the size of his palm, with several tiny keys, the entire alphabet and even more, and a relatively big screen as it occupied about half the space. "_This_ is a phone?", Victoria asked, stunned.

"Indeed, it is. But please-"

"Blimey, it has a coloured display!"

He chuckled. "Yes, it does, but, please, don't toy with it or try to crack the code. It ought to be nothing but a security to you that I_ will_ return, because, in fact, I really need it back. In the exact same condition as it is now, mark you."

Smiling, Victoria held the phone to her chest. "I will protect it as if it was my own."

"Don't forget that it's not." He eyed her once more, before adding a softer tone to his voice. "It was a pleasure to meet you again, Miss Davies-Norwood."

"The pleasure was all mine, Mr. Hart." Victoria let the driver help her out, though, before he could close the door behind her, she turned around one last time. "Mr. Hart?"

He leant forward to get her into his field of vision.

In a voice resonating with entreaty, Victoria said: "Don't let me down.", and as the taxi drove off eventually, she felt a smile occupy her face, the brightest smile for a long time.


	9. At the Round Table

**_Author's Note: IT WAS RELEASED PEOPLEZ OMU KINGSMAN WAS RELEASED AND I'M DYING I ALREADY WATCHED IT LIKE 37791237 TIMES! Ok it was 12 times but still. Anyway THANK YOU GUYS AGAIN FOR REVIEWING, you made my holidays so much more enjoyable :D This chapter was kinda very short in my head, but turned out to be as long as the others O.o "Uhm... Sorry?"_**

**_Anyway, please ENJOY you wonderful people aND BUY THE BLU RAY OR DVD OR WHATEVER THE EXTRAS ARE SO CUTE TARON IS SO DEFINITELY IN LOVE WITH COLIN XD _**

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**At the Round Table**

'Charlie and Nick would kill to get to disassemble this thing.', it crossed Victoria's mind, as she was lying on her bed, examining this so-called phone. Even her, who wasn't as technichally adept as her brothers, was fascinated by the extraordinary device, particularly as it was so incredibly different from her own mobile. She'd always thought to possess the newest achievements in techonolgy, though, she might have expected a secret agent like Harry Hart to have special gadgets.

Agent Harry Hart... She still couldn't believe to have found him. It felt so surreal, like a dream she didn't want to be woken from. Yesterday at this time she'd still been searching, not allowing herself to raise too much hope upon a shop in case it turned out to be yet another disappointment.

And now? Well... Now she was waiting. Hart had given her his word to return, '_presumably_' today, still she couldn't help getting nervous, even though it was only about 3 p.m.. Perhaps it wasn't the fear that he'd break his promise at all, but only anticipation, the same feeling that had kept her awake all night last night, that made time pass as slowly as a snail would run a marathon... or rather slither.

A shriek escaped Victoria's lips and she jumped up immediately, when all of a sudden the phone in her hands let loose a buzzing noise. With widened eyes she stared down at the now lit up display.

Had she done anything wrong? Had she accidently pushed some button that ought to be unpushed? '_In the exact same condition, mark you_.' How Mr. Hart would react upon getting handed a broken device, after he'd entrusted her with it? Victoria didn't know which would affect her more, seeing him disappointed or furious. Keeping his skills in mind she'd rather choose disappointment, though.

Biting her lip, she considered whether she better didn't touch the phone again to avoid causing further damage, but then curiosity won the fight within her and she quickly grabbed it.

'_Please, be ready to go in 30 mins_.',

it said right under '_1 new message by unknown number_'.

Was this message for her? Or for Mr. Hart? Perhaps one of his collegues didn't know that he lent his phone and now the agent was missing an appointment only because of her insecurity and lack of trust. But if the text was addressed to her...

Without further hesitation Victoria darted at her wardrobe. The stressful times backstage finally paid off, as she finished dressing and putting on make up in under ten minutes, however, this wasn't such a good solution after all, since what followed was waiting again and this almost drove her crazy. Her heart pounded strongly in her chest, as she paced up and down, pondering over what to expect from today. But then the redeeming sound of a pressed doorbell rang out.

"Opening!", she shouted, rushing downstairs.

As soon as she laid eyes on him, the taxi driver was greeted with a wide smile.

"Good afternoon, Miss.", the tall man said friendly. "Mr. Hart sent me to pick you up."

"I know, just give me one second." Victoria turned around halfway, raising her voice. "Nan, Cathy is here. We'll go for a drink, alright?"

One could pick out how comfortably sunk down into the couch the old woman was. "Alright, but be careful."

Whilst putting on her coat, walking out to the taxi, Victoria asked: "Do I need to take anything with me apart from Mr. Hart's phone?"

"I assume not, but I'm only your driver. I can't provide you with any other information than our destination, which will be _Kingsman_.", he said, opening the car's door for her.

Victoria smirked. Her theory that this tailor shop was somehow connected to the Hart's work was thereby confirmed.

* * *

Already from afar Victoria had spotted the secret agent, standing in front of the shop that provided him with those marvellous suits.

"I hope your pickup followed not too near-term.", he said as he helped her out.

"Not at all, Mr. Hart." She handed him his mobile phone. "I dropped it.", she announced just as he was about to pocket it, making him pause and look at her. "Twice."

For a long moment they just looked at each other, both with a completely blank expression.

"You didn't.", Hart stated in a neutral voice, before the grin she'd been trying so hard to suppress already broke out.

"No, I didn't. I'm sorry, I tend to joke around when I'm nervous. After all I have absolutely no idea what to expect from today. Why am I here exactly? Am I going to meet your superior?"

He nodded, holding the door to _Kingsman &amp; Sons _open for her.

"So, you discussed everything?"

There was a very sublte change in his tone, the adoption of a slight bitterness Victoria couldn't really classify. "We agreed on a way to handle the situation. And don't worry, this -" He quickly ran his pointing finger from one side of his neck to the other. "- is definitely not involved."

She squinnied, smirking. "Still not fully convinced."

The old-fashioned tailor shop still fascinated her, as they walked to the back of the main room, where the elderly salesman from yesterday greeted her with a warm smile. She returned it with a beaming one - the way he looked at her felt somehow supportive - though, swiftly concentrated on what lay before her again. Hart led the way up the stairs to a short corridor. Its left side had two single doors seemingly of the same dark wood the furniture downstairs was made of and the right an open double door, which the agent was now heading for.

The room it led to was kept in the same colours as the shop's main room downstairs, the same forest green walls, however, here they were canvassed with several portraits each additionally illuminated by longish lamps above them, since the light coming from the big windows on the left left much to be desired due to the cloudiness outside. Dressers were holding various objects on them - the function of some was not identifiable for Victoria - but what actually caught one's eye was the imposant mahogany table in the middle, which a beige folder was placed on and on whose end a man sat, standing up as soon as Victoria entered the room. He appeared to be in his sixties, his light brown hair was already traversed by grey strands just like his face with wrinkles, though, one certainly couldn't tell his age by his body, which in his bespoke charcoal suit looked likewise slender and athletic as Hart's.

"Miss Davies-Norwood, I presume.", he said with a smile, joining hands with her as she reached him.

"You presume correctly, Sir.", she replied, reflecting his expression. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm afraid, however, Mr. Hart withheld your name."

The glance he shot at Hart who was just closing the doors didn't escape her. "Oh, you can call me Arthur. Please, take a seat."

'Arthur, Merlin... Sounds like I landed in Camelot.', she quipped in thoughts, maintaining her polite face, as she met his request.

Arthur waited a moment until Hart had sat down opposite her, then he spoke up again: "Mr. Hart told me much about you and your persistence." His smile grew even bigger. "I have to say I'm impressed. Men like us are not exactly known for being easy to find."

"Well, you definitely are not.", she laughed lightly. "In fact my search was quite an ordeal. If luck hadn't been on my side, I'd still be groping in the dark."

"Nevertheless, it was a truly remarkable accomlishment, which keeps me wondering if your exceptional perception skills were trained or a natural talent."

She straightened, interlacing her fingers. "Well, my abilities surely were inherent to a certain extent, but over the years I refined them by..." Taking a deep breath, Victoria looked up to the golden chandelier with its white, globelike lamps hanging above them, while she tried to come up with a way to describe how she got round to her skills. For her they had always been there, as she'd never actually trained or expanded them actively, and seeing that such astounding men like the ones sitting at the table with her deemed them as imposing confused her a little. "... orienteering lessons in school or by special forms of acting classes. Moreover, my father had encouraged me to extend my awareness towards my surroundings ever since I can remember."

"And being immune to our serum was also a genetic predisposition or is there another explanation for this phenomenon?"

Luckily, Hart took over just a second later, since all Victoria could offer as answer for that question was blinking and a confused expression. "The amnesia substance I told you I injected you with during your stay in hospital."

His words hurt like a stab. For a moment Victoria could only stare at him.

He had drugged her? The man she felt so grateful to had drugged her with this amnesia thing and hadn't told her until now? He could have easily wiped out her memories thereby, erasing all these, admittedly, painful yet incredibly fantastic experiences from her mind as if nothing happened. Her ordinary, boring life wouldn't have changed one bit, all because Mr. Harry Hart had decided to inject her with this bloody serum! However, it hadn't worked. No memories were gone, she rememberred everything and as soon as she was alone with her 'knight' again, she'd royally bawl him out for his shameful attempt until he didn't know what hit him. Now, however, she'd contain herself, not embarrass him in front of his superior. After all, the scolding should be hers alone.

"Ah, yes, I remember.", she said after a short pause, turning to Arthur again. "I admit I have absolutely no idea what prevented the serum from operating. I presume it was the other medications I was already filled with or, like you said, a genetic predisposition."

"Hm...", the elderly man uttered. "You seem to be even more extraordinary than I thought, Miss Norwood."

She laughed lightly. "Oh, you are too kind, Arthur!"

"Taking your... specialness... into account, we came to the conclusion that you deserve to get informed about what exactly led to your encounter with Mr. Hart."

Victoria's eyes widened a bit. "Really?" She'd only been here a few minutes and was already offered answers without having to worm them out of her counterpart? Darting a slightly blaming look at Hart, since _he_ hadn't been as honest as this Arthur with her right away although they'd have more time with each other, which was only answered with a raised brow, she cheerfully said: "I appreciate it enormously that you confide this knowledge to me, Arthur. Thank you."

He gave her a nod. "You're welcome. Mr. Hart?"

The addressed one pushed the folder Victoria had noticed when entering over to her, flipping it open in doing so. As she let her eyes wander over the now exposed pages, she realised that all the pictures disclosed in there seemed familiar, especially when she reached the one of a certain bald man.

"Is this...?"

"The one you threw into the abyss along with yourself? Yes, indeed."

"You don't happen to know anything about his state of health after I did exactly that, do you?"

"Well, judging from the screams and sobs I heard him utter when I climbed down to get you, I presume he was in a similar condition of agony."

Victoria nodded and attended to the file in front of her again. Usually, she wasn't the gloating type of woman, though, she couldn't help letting a smirk creep onto her face over this piece of information.

"He and the other men holding you captive were part of an irish terrorist group,", he continued. "which had made it their aim to completely separate Ireland and therefore british politicians represented their main targets. You probably have heard about Prime Minister Blair's speech addressing the Irish Parliament some weeks ago?"

Victoria took a pause from browsing to look up at Hart. "They planned an assault on Tony Blair?"

He gave her a nod. "They used to maintain a low profile in the past, however, the prospect of assassinating the british Prime Minister, and probably some other members of the parliament with him, made them incautious, enabling it to identify and track them down."

"So, basically... what brought you there was saving the Prime Minister's life?"

"Basically, yes."

With raised brows Victoria interlaced her fingers over the file, smiling at her opposite. "Well, thank you. I'm already sick and tired of new election campaigns anyhow." Her expression changed to a slightly worried one. "I hope I wasn't too much of an obstacle in frustrating their horrible plans..."

"No, not at all. I already placed the bombs to blow up their arsenal before I found you. Due to your condition and the accompanying pressure of time, however, we missed out on a lovely little explosion."

Again a smirk seized her features, as she said, frowning: "Uhm... Sorry?"

"Speaking of your dreadful condition you got into that night,", Arthur piped up, catching the attention of the two. "we also decided to provide you with full-time protection by one of our agents in order to make sure that something like that would never reoccur. Don't worry, neither you nor anybody of your family will realise his presence."

"Oh, this is... very kind of you, again, but I doubt it will be necessary now that I am coorporating with your organisation anyway."

The quick look Arthur and Hart exchanged now unnerved her a bit. Had she missed something? That her opposite needed a moment to respond, taking a deep breath, didn't make it better as well. "Miss Norwood... There won't be a cooperation."

At first she felt nothing, as if time had just stopped and trapped her in her current state. Then, however, her stomach began to cramp, a film of sweat covered her whole body, in order to cool it down now that it was overrun by a sudden wave of heat. "I... I don't... I'm not sure I...", Victoria struggled for words, before it already clicked in her mind. "Wait... This isn't a 'full-time protector' you put on me, it's a spy to ensure I won't betray you, isn't it?"

"Miss-"

"How many times do I have to prove myself before you finally deem me as trustworthy?!" She actually hadn't intended to raise her voice, but looking at the man opposite from her, the man who supposed to be her knight, she couldn't keep herself from doing so anymore. He rejected her. _Again_. She'd thought to finally have convinced him of entirely involving her, but no, he decided to surprise her with yet another disappointment.

"Miss Norwood...", Arthur rose to speak. "You have to understand that this is a secret service not a charity that lets anyone in who knocks at our door."

"Yes, because usually nobody manages to knock at your door. Nobody manages to find you, but I did. You yourself said this was remarkable."

"It was remarkable, still irritating. We already violated the organisation's principles of discretion for you too often."

A subtle tone of anger suddenly sounded in his voice, a tone Victoria wouldn't have expected from him, which was why she needed a moment to compose herself again, trying to keep calm, which was extremely difficult by now. "And I respect that and am gratefull, but-"

"We can't make any more exceptions to meet your desires, solely because you were blessed with a bit of luck, Miss Davies-Norwood."

Victoria stared at the elderly man, lightly frowning.

Due to her perception skills and knowledge of human nature it occurred very seldom that she was wrong about people, which was why it took her off guard a bit now that she understood. It wasn't Mr. Hart who wanted to keep her from getting involved. He might hid it quite well, but Victoria was able to detect the apologetic expression behind his mask of neutrality. This was why he'd been so severe when confronted with the discussion he'd held with his superior, because _Arthur_ had refused to involve her any further. This whole meeting... a farce, set up by him only to satisfy the unknowing girl and to shut her up.

What he'd said, _how_ he'd said it, the piercing look he gave her now... As much as she'd been wrong about him, she now knew something about this man called Arthur definitely: He wouldn't relent, wouldn't change his mind, no matter how much she begged, no matter which arguments she lay on. He'd made a decision and this decision was to not let Victoria in on it. On the one hand she actually admired his stubbornness, since it was so similar to hers, on the other hand... she disliked him for it.

"Your persistence is admirable. I am positive that a glowing future lays ahead of you, simply not with us.", she heard him say through her train of thoughts, in a calmer tone than before.

Victoria just kept staring at him.

Then, all of a sudden, she stood up and waited for the men to follow suit, before shaking hands with the elderly man. "Thank you for taking time to see me, Arthur.", she said neutrally, turned around and walked out of the dining room with her head held high, because this was how a lady took a defeat. However, at the moment Victoria wished to just slap this Arthur across his stupid face. Oh, how she envied the mannerly freedom of the rabble sometimes.


	10. Cold

_**Author's Note: Guess where I've been yesterday. OOOOH YES (well, you've probably been wrong or haven't guessed in general, but HELL YES ANYWAY) I'VE BEEN IN AN OPEN AIR CINEMA AND THEY SCREENED KINGSMAN :DDD IT WAS SO AWESOME! Of course it was.**_

_**Sooooo ENJOY this new chap and please keep reviewing you AGAJFJFBDLSJDH GREAT PEOPLE!**_

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**Cold**

It certainly wasn't something unusual here, though, it seemed like the weather was intentionally reflecting her mood. With a gloomy face Victoria stared through the drops the rain left on the taxi's window pane, just as silent as Mr. Hart sitting next to her, who must have sensed that it would be a really bad idea to approach her now. After all she was fuming about him for having tried to manipulate her memory, she was fuming about Arthur, who knew as well as nothing about her and still rejected her without batting an eye, but first and foremost she was fuming about _herself_.

How could she just give up so fast? How could she let this unique opportunity slip through her fingers simply because she believed this old man to be adamant? She had been wrong about him before and now she could have been too, however, she would never get to know now that she surrendered! Going back was no option either, though, because neither did she want to meet Arthur again, nor appear weak. She'd strutted out of the tailor's shop so proudly that it would only harm the resolute impression she'd left if she came crawling back, obedient like a tamed animal.

When the car halted at the exact same spot it had done yesterday, Victoria kept her seat. Sitting up straight, she waited, as Mr. Hart got out. It splashed quietly at every step she heard him take around the car to her door, which he opened for her now, holding his umbrella above it to shield her from the rain. Victoria, however, got out of the car and marched right past him, not towards her home, but the opposite direction, towards the park across the street.

Her long dark hair curled slowly like it always did when getting wet, but Victoria didn't bother. The chilly water moistening her drop after drop was rather had a cooling effect than an inconvenient one, not only to her body, but also to her mind, though, not as much as to allay her anger. Wrapping her arms around her chest, she kept on stomping through the cold, not paying attention to Mr. Hart, who was quickly hurrying after her.

As he finally reached her, she heard him take a breath to say something, but there she abruptly turned around, making the man stop dead in his tracks.

"You said you wouldn't let me down.", she spat at him, making no pretence of her chagrin anymore.

For a moment Mr. Hart still seemed a bit startled by her sudden outburst, but then he already put on his mask of neutrality he met her with most of the time. "And I didn't. I returned, just like I promised."

"That was not what I meant by 'Don't let me down.'. I wanted you to not lead me into another disappointment, which clearly happened today."

Slowly anger was showing through in his eyes as well. "That your statement was so vague is not my fault, nor is it that you had such unrealistic expectations on this matter."

"Unrealistic expectations?!" Victoria had to gather all her strength to not slap him, particularly now that they were standing so close to each other, as he was still trying to cover them both with his umbrella. "I. Deserve. Getting involved and you know that!"

"What we deserve and what we eventually get is rarely the same, Miss Norwood. This is called life. We all have to deal with it.", he responded rapidly in a similar raised voice as hers.

"Oh, is this what you told yourself when you tried to erase my memory?"

Mr. Hart paused. The rage faded from his features almost in an instant, made way for another blank expression. "Dishonesty is a terrible feature, but sometimes lying is necessary.", he eventually spoke up again, way calmer than before.

Victoria, however, hadn't composed herself one bit, which was reflecting in her tone still containing an excessive amount of ire and bitterness. "You mean because I could turn you in for _drugging_ me?"

"I was referring to Arthur."

Immidiately she wanted to throw a spiteful answer into her opponent's face, when she realised what he'd just said.

He hadn't told her about the drugging in the restaurant, how he'd sublty made her play along by 'remembering' her what he'd told her about the amnesia serum... '_I was referring to Arthur._' He'd lied to him. He'd lied to his superior about having injected her with this substance. Of course he had. It wouldn't have made sense if he'd tried to erase her memory and then left her this note that led her to find him. Why hadn't she thought about this earlier? Rage must have made her blind...

She was still frowning in confusion, as Hart explained further:"Arthur had already been utterly incensed since I couldn't keep you from finding me. Not telling him that I haven't even tried really saved me a lot of trouble. I apologise for dragging you into this white lie, but it was-"

"Necessary, I understand."

Hart might be an astounding agent with incredible abilities, but he still had to comply with his superior's commands just like any other soldier, which he hadn't in her case, though. If it was guilt or something else that stung him into defy Arthur she couldn't tell, main thing was that he _had_ done it. Like the dirt being washed away from the green park bench next to them, anger left her body, what stayed, however, was a knot in her stomach reminding her that her problem still wasn't solved.

Rubbing her face, Victoria let out a deep sigh. "Despite what Arthur said, I can't give up now, Mr. Hart. I _have_ to get involved somehow."

"Miss Norwood, our offer is well-wrought and the only option that provides safety for both you and your family. It's only wise to accept."

"No, it's not." She put her hands down, looking him straight in the eye. "When you learned about all this, did you retreat? No, you didn't, otherwise you wouldn't be here now, _Agent_ Hart, unless they forced you into being a secret agent, which, I'm inclined to believe, is highly improbable." The sudden determination showing in her expression seemed to astonish him, as he examined her shortly, though, Victoria didn't pay attention to it, simply kept talking. "I can't go back to normality, can't resume my old, ordinary life, after what I've seen, after what I got to know. There _has_ to be some way to be admitted to your organisation." Not minding the rain at all, she turned around and began to pace up and down, whilst biting her buttom lip like she was used to when brooding. "I could work as some sort of secretary or assistant or whatever and work my way up, couldn't I?"

"Arthur would never agree to something like this."

"There _must_ be a way, which Arthur has no say in, or where he only gets wind of me being on board when it's already too late, a masquarade perhaps. I could disguise as charlady! Although... I'm really bad at cleaning..." Due to her own absorption with searching for ideas she hadn't noticed it, but now that she faced Hart again, she frowned. The pensive yet indecisive expression he wore right now, looking to the ground while slowly flexing and stretching his fingers of the hand not holding the umbrella's handle, could only mean one thing. Her face lightened up and she took a few quick steps back towards him. "_Is_ there a way?"

He raised his eyes to her. "... There is a post recently vacated..."

"What kind of post? An agent's?" The way he slightly tilted his head to the side as response told her everything it needed to let a beaming smile appear on her lips.

"One of my collegues decided to retire this year. Finally. We've advised him to do so several times."

"Why? Do you consider him as too old for the job?"

"No, he's not particularly old, however, it is increasingly difficult to find a suitable mission when you have a transfemoral prothesis and are blind in one eye."

Victoria's eyes widened a bit. "How... tragic..." Hoping to not seem too insensitive, she quickly added: "How can I apply for the job?"

"You can't. One of our agents has to propose you as his candidate."

"Well, then what are we still waiting for? Make me your candidate!"As he didn't reply anything, her shoulders dropped. "What? What's the problem now?"

"... I already have a candidate."

Victoria began to bite her upper lip, not breaking eye contact. "Who?"

"A Bristol graduate, who seems to have a remarkable sense for discipline, particularly as he's just joined the british army."

"Bristol?" She let out a short laugh, crossing her arms. "Didn't he make it to Oxford like _I_ did?"

"May I remind you that you didn't graduate?"

"Of my own accord, not because I wasn't good enough." Exuding nothing but self-consciousness by her posture and expression, she gave her counterpart a nod. "Go ahead, tell me about his abilities, so that I can scupper your believe in him being a better choice for a candidate than I am."

"Well, he evinces many talents. For instance, apart from his mother tongue, he's fluent in 3 languages."

"Rien de particulier. I'm fluent in french, german, italian and spanish. Also, I'm able of translating latin texts. Please, continue."

"He currently enjoys military education and training."

"Handling weapons and physical abilities can be learnt and developed. Ambition, a strong will and my extraordinary perception skills, however, not. Besides, has he seen someone like you in action before?"

"No."

"Then he doesn't know what he gets himself into."

Hart's face suddenly adopted stern features. "Neither do you."

"Perhaps you're right, but I, at least, wasn't _found_. This... this boy didn't have to do anything particular to convince you of being the right choice, while I_ fight_ for becoming your candidate." She narrowed her eyes to slits. "Why do you actually think I was looking for you? I apologise if that harms your self-consciousness, but I didn't do it because of _you_ as a person. And I didn't do it for the answers I was in need of either. I did it for what you stand for, for what I always wanted to stand for myself."

"And what do I stand for?"

There was a twinkle in her eyes as she was looking deep into his, displaying her fascination and enthusiasm towards what she was going to say. "An adventure. Meaning something. Changing the world... Ideally for the better."

The pleading which had shown earlier returned to his look, though, this time Hart didn't bother to hide it. "Miss Norwood...", he began quietly, yet emphatically. "... Being someone like me is _dangerous_..."

A small smile spread over her lips. "And you think _I_ don't know that?"

"I am fully aware of what you have been through, but you have no idea what expected you if I really made you my candidate for this job. You have been quite lucky under the circumstances last time. You got away with scars. Next time... you could die."

"If I'm not going to be a part of this..." Victoria took one last step closer, almost breathing the words that exposed nothing but plain honesty. "...I will die anyway."

A light breeze let the rain drops hit her skin like tiny daggers of iciness, but it didn't matter. The frosty sensation was merely present in the back of her mind, as she was staring into her opposite's eyes, the man's eyes whose hands her fate was in now. There were no more arguments to convince him any further, everything was said, now it was up to him. His pensive gaze didn't give a glimpse of whether he tended to decide in her favour or against it. Perhaps he didn't know himself, was on the fence, though, the more time passed, the more Victoria feared his decision. Apprehension almost paralised her, the cold around finally forced its way into her bones, making her shiver, and a booming noise filled her ears, almost drowning it out when Hart eventually said: "Would you like to get changed before we go?"


	11. MASC

_**Author's Note: My dearies, I need to tell you know that I am quite shocked how many people follow and favourite this story, not to mention the ones who review! And it's very hard for me to stAY CALM BECAUSE I WANNA HUG YOU ALL AND BUY YOU I DUNNO CANDY OR SOMETHING YOU'RE AWESOME!**_

_**I hope you ENJOY this as well, you great people, you! *pokes your noses, awkward silence, giggles and walks away in shame***_

* * *

** M.A.S.C.**

Heaven knows, Lydia Norwood wasn't easy to unsettle - in all these years as a company's head one developed nerves of steel inevitably - now, however, watching the evening blackness lay over London, slowly like a sinking dark veil, paired with the knowledge of her daughter not being home yet, her wall of serenity began to crumble. Her mother had informed her about Victoria's whereabouts, though, neither did the fact that despite nightfall it wasn't particularly late soothe her, nor did she trust in the subject of her daughter meeting up with Cathy, one of her collegues of her former daytime job. Her recently acquired buoyancy had to be approached with scepticism, after all she'd suffered from severe depression only a month ago and that couldn't be bettered from one day to the next. No, something was wrong, one didn't have to be an expert to realise that. There either was more behind her sudden mood swing or it was the harbinger of something terrible. What if Victoria decided to run away from home out of the blue? Or what if she got in with bad company, which Lydia had always been so anxious to keep her out of? Or what if, perish the thought - she could bear that - what if her daughter chose to end-

The sound of the front door getting unlocked let her snap back to reality. Swiftly, she rose from her office chair and hastened out, past her grown-to-the-couch mother, and into the entrance hall, where Victoria just led someone in, laughing. As soon as she laid eyes on her mother, her smile grew even brighter.

"Mum!"

That she instantly flung her arms around her, hugging her tighter than any time in the last few months, absolutely caught Lydia off guard, though, the blonde woman regained her composure quickly, particularly as she examined her daughter's companion during the embracement. He was a tall man, brown-haired, in his 30s approximately, wearing one of the best tailored suits she'd seen in ages - ever since her exploration trips of her father's wardrobe as a child, she'd been a great admirer of bespoke clothing - together with a wide smile, while regarding the two cheerfully. He didn't look familiar to her, even though she practically knew every business man in London. Who was he? Why was her daughter spending time with a stranger?

"Why are you home so early?", Victoria asked cheerfully, as she lightly pushed away from her.

"My meeting was cancelled."

"Oh, wonderful! I mean, I'm sorry there's a lack of progress in your current business, but I'm so incredibly glad you're here!" Since Lydia had raised her children to speak clearly and distinctly, it was quite noncharacteristic for her daughter to talk nineteen to a dozen, but it still wasn't that surprising now that utter excitement was writ large in her face.

"Victoria," Giving him her polite business-smile, Lydia directed her eyes to the man again. "don't you want to introduce me to the gentleman you brought with you?"

As if this question was some behaviour-changing spell, Victoria calmed down at it and positioned herself right beside the man in the suit, putting her hands on his arm. "Mum, this is Mr. Meyrick. Callum, my mother Lydia."

"Ah, the woman I have to thank for raising such an adorable pretty lass!" Mr Meyrick took her by surprise when he stepped forward to shake her hand before she was even ready to extend it to him, cupping it with his other one. "Your daughter is a gift!"

Victoria blushed, laughing, playfully slapping his arm. "Oh, stop it, you embarrass me!" After Meyrick let go off her hands, Victoria beamed at her again. "Mum, Mr Meyrick is one of the operators of the Method Acting Society Course-"

"Short M.A.S.C.. With C.", he added, swollen with pride. "A new programme wherein young talents travel all around the world and fulfil certain tasks, pushing boundaries, break down barriers and explore into cultures they've only ever read about, in order to eventually get a plain and unmistakable understanding of the matter of acting, as well as of themselves."

Her daughter's eyes sparkled at his words, before she already spoke up herself again, sounding strained as if she was trying hard to conceal her felicity. "And _I_, Mum, _I_ am among the 12 chosen actors and actresses! Isn't that _great_?!"

Lydia blinked, her voice flat. "Yes, that's... that's... marvellous..."

The shrieking noise of joy Victoria let loose as she clapped her hands and jumped up was almost inhuman. "Fantastic! It's starting tomorrow! I go packing!" With that she sprinted up the stairs, leaving Lydia behind with her bafflement.

"Vic- Victoria, wait!" She wanted to hurry after her, but amidst the movement rememberred the man still standing there with a wide grin. "Oh, I'm awfully sorry, Mr Meyrick! All the fuss let me forget to offer you something to drink. May I invite you in for a cup of tea or some wine or-?"

"Very kind of you, but please don't put yourself to any bother on my account. Feel free to follow your sweetheart of a daughter and talk all the details over." He looked up, raising his voice. "Vicky, dear!"

A bit of rumpling, a muffled 'Ouch' and her daughter appeared at the handrail of the staircase's top end, panting yet smiling. "Yes, Callum?"

"I'll be waiting in the car. Have to make some calls."

"Alright. I'll be there in about 10 minutes."

"Don't deprive me of this pretty face of yours for too long!"

Giggling, she gave him a nod and vanished into her room. Once more, Meyrick energetically joined hands with Lydia. "Again I want to thank you. It'll be such a pleasure to work with Victoria."

She didn't know what to respond, was too absorbed by the attempt of grasping the situation, which didn't seem to bother the man at all, as he turned on his heel and left the house.

One more moment, she just stood there, utterly clueless. Then she broke free from the roots she'd begun to strike and rushed upstairs.

She found her daughter kneeling on the floor of her room, encircled by numerous piles of clothes, which she hostily examined and packed into the big grey suitcase lying open in front of her.

"Victoria,", Lydia began insistently, but was rudely hushed by a stretched out pointing finger.

"Wait a second." Lost in thoughts Victoria's eyes searched the room. "Where's my... AH!" She bent over one particularly high pile and conjured folded black jogging trousers out of it which also landed in the suitcase. After that she suddenly paused, seemed to hesitate with her next step, then, however, she jumped up, turning to Lydia with her palms facing her in an soothing gesture. "Okay, I know all this comes quite out of the blue for you, but..." She obviously struggled for words, but gave up then with a sigh. "It's not that new to _me_." Lydia folded her arms, waiting for further explanations. "See, after this... incident... I realised that everything had gotten out of hand, that nothing was the way I'd wanted it to be and I didn't have a back up plan. I got stuck. It was, to put it mildly, frustrating. This was where my depression was stiring from. But then..." Her face lightened up. "Do you remember that evening I just stormed out? Well... that evening I spontanously decided to participate in an audition I've heard of, an audition for a very special kind of acting job. I didn't expect to succeed, but in the end... they'd read out my name. My name! I advanced to the next round. It just... changed something about me... It raised my hopes, it let me regard my future less gloomy, truly bright and happy actually. So I fought for this job and some weeks later..." Another happy smile spread over her face. "... I'm here, packing for the ultimate adventure." She took a step closer to her mother. "I am so sorry I lied to you the past weeks. I just... I knew I wouldn't be able to bear your disappointment if I failed at this, so I hid the whole thing from you and nan."

Slowly, Lydia's defensive posture fell and she looked at her daughter with a frown. "Victoria... You have grown up into an intelligent, ambitious lady. How could I ever be disappointed in you?" The last words got a bit muted, as she enfolded Victoria into her arms. "I am proud of you for daring this step, but..." She faced her again, showing sheer concern. "I barely know anything about this programme. What if it turns out to be different from what was promised, or if Meyrick's intentions are not what they seem to be?"

"I spent the last weeks with him and got my teeth into this course and it's absolutely nothing dubious.", her daughter assured her. "Quite the contrary, it's a well-planned project, designed to create a new elite of method actors and besides we'll connect with professionals in the business, making it way easier to gain foothold afterwards."

"That's only what they _told_ you. Reality may be very different. It's possible that they just use your and your colleague's dreams against you to get the better of you."

Victoria rolled her eyes. "Mum, that's highly unlikely since we don't pay them anything. We get paid."

"Well... Alright. But there's still the problem that you _travel the world_! Do you know how dangerous that is, how much could go awry? No, Victoria, after all what happened you can't expect me to let explore the whole planet alone for... for how long actually?"

"Depends on how good I am. If I failed the first challenge I could be back home tomorrow already. However, I'm confident that that won't be the case, so... maybe a year?"

"A year?!" Lydia's eyes widened even more. "No, that's unacceptable, Victoria, you can't-"

"I _can_, and I _will_."

The determination in her daughter's voice sent Lydia staring. Her little girl had always known what she wanted, had always made detailed plans to realise her dreams, at least up to her hospital stay. Since then the certainty she'd always pride herself with in the past had seethed away like a perfume losing its scent on your skin. Though now... It seemed like the Victoria she'd known was back, wearing an steadfast will like an armour against every counter argument that may be thrown at her, just like Lydia herself had always encouraged her to do.

"I know you only try to protect me,", Victoria began. "and this is only natural after what happened to me. But I want to leave this behind, regain control over my life and start all over again. Participating in this course is my chance to do this exactly. I want it, Mum, I really do. It's a once in a lifetime experience, my only chance... Don't you think I should grab it?"

In the silence that spread between the two the tension was almost palpable. Neither Lydia nor her daughter took their eyes from each other, reflectiveness in one pair, resolve in the other.

Then, quietly, Lydia broke the silence: "You forgot to pack some gloves for the colder regions."

It needed a moment until the message sank in, before Victoria already hugged her, shrieking.

Together they packed, discussing what might be necessary for a world-trip which wouldn't be provided by the operators of M.A.S.C.. Victoria also bid her good-bye to nana, telling her that Lydia would explain everything later.

"I want them to send me a copy of your contract, a register of all the locations you're visiting, a schedule in general, and some more information about this organisation itself...", Lydia listed, as they finally came to a stand at the doorway.

Victoria laughed, handing her suitcase to the driver. "Okay, okay, I'll tell them."

"Oh, and call me every day."

"I'm not sure if that'll be possible, Mum."

"Well, then every other day."

Instead of annoyance, which she'd had expected, seh was only met with a smile. "I will miss you.", her daughter said, voice soft and full of affection.

Lydia let out a deep sigh, before they indulged in another tight hug. "I will miss you too, dearie, I will miss you so, so much." When they moved apart, she cupped her daughter's face with her hands. "Please, be careful, yes?"

It was the longest fare-well they ever had, but eventually Victoria broke free from her mother's grip and hopped the few stairs down to the car waiting for her. As it drove off, she waved her good-bye, until she was put of sight and the brightly smiling actress let herself sink into the seat with a sigh.

"Ten minutes, hm?", Hart next to her said, a smirk playing around his lips.

"I'm sorry, it took a while longer to fully convince her. I hope you have good forgers employed at your organisation. Everything's a tad more complicated when your mother is a wary business woman." She gave him a grin, speaking in the most amused tone: "Far more surprising, though, was your excellent performance... Mr Meyrick."

"Deception and improvisation is part of every agent's training. However, may I remind you that this is not the way we usually handle things?"

His stern look let most amusement fade from her face. "I told you, she would never believe me joining the army or any other military force. This step was necessary."

"Still, if you fail and... decease during a challenge or in a mission, it would be _my_ duty to inform the bereaved and I would much rather prefer to not have to come up with something as ridiculous as 'She fell off a cliff in Costa Rica during our acting classes'..."

"I understand. And don't worry, Mr Hart, I will see about it as soon as the time is right... but until then I will fully concentrate on the training." She directed her eyes out of the window to her left, though, instead of the dark houses rushing by she only saw the bright future as a spy awaiting her. "This is going to be such an amazing journey."


	12. Leaving the Old World

**_Author's Note: I actually planned to make this a short chap, but well... I didn't quite succeed as you can see :P Oh and may I mention how awesome you all following and favouriting and REVIEWING this are? Yes? Ok... *clears her throat* BIG HUG YOU ARE GREAT AAAAH_**

**_ENJOY, my lovely readers :D_**

* * *

**Leaving the Old World**

She looked differently. Victoria hadn't changed much about her outfit, had only slipped into more comfortable, slightly less classic clothes, but standing in front of that mirror of one of '_Kingsman_''s dressing rooms now, she definitely looked differently. It probably was the anticipation, the prospect of what lay ahead of her that made her aura pulse and shine brightly. The mere thought of the training and what it might result in... She hadn't been able give her own reflection such an honest smile for years.

When the door opened she immediately directed this smile toward the man entering. His own face was stern, though, which didn't change a tad about her expression.

Hart positioned himself right next to her. For a moment Victoria believed him to expect her to speak, but then he asked, looking straight into her eyes: "Are you really sure about this? Getting injured is not only a possibility here, it's a certainty. Severely as well. This is not some joy ride, this is a hard training, which will push you to the limit and further."

"And I am absolutely aware of that, Mr Hart. I recognise the risks as well as I recognise how tough the following times will be.", she said in a soft tone, still smiling. "And yes, I am more than sure. I _want_ to participate in the competition for this position."

It took another few seconds in which he seemed to examine her without his eyes ever leaving hers, before a light - and somewhat proud - smile seized his features. "So be it." He stretched out his arm, placing the palm of his hand onto the mirror Victoria had just watched herself in. Suddenly there was a dull rumble and the floor began to... sink? Victoria's eyes widened. Yes, they were actually sinking into the ground!

As the half wood-panelled, half green walls made way for the bricks beneath, Hart began to explain: "Since 1849 Kingsman tailors have clothed the world's most powerful individuals. By 1919, a great number of them had lost their heirs to World War One. That meant a lot of money going uninherited and a lot of powerful men with a desire to preserve peace and protect life. Our founders realised that they could channel that wealth and influence for the greater good. And so began... our other venture."

It was hard for Victoria to take her eyes from the changing surroundings as they sunk deeper and deeper, but somehow she managed to direct them at Hart, frowning: "Wait, does that mean that '_Kingsman_' is not only connected to your secret agency... It_ is_ the agency?"

He gave her a telling smile. "An independent international intelligence agency operating at the highest level of discretion, above the politics and bureaucracy that undermine the integrity of government-run spy organisations. And you, Victoria, are applying for the position of a Kingsman agent."

A line of light suddenly appeared at the edge of the floor. It grew bigger, revealed the room the sinking platform led to. It looked like a tiny, outdated tube station, though, instead of a train, some huge, metal pipe with windows was waiting for them. Hart motioned for her to go inside first, as they reached its opening and she sat down in one of the four broad armchair within. He himself took the seat across from her, not taking his gaze from her excited features, whilst she paid more attention to the proceedings around her. Only when the pipe closed itself swiftly, she shot him a questioning look, before she was already pushed into the chair. She gasped, took a look out of the window to her right. The mini-tube station was gone, blackness was what it was followed by.

They moved. They moved fast.

A grin spread over Victoria's lips. She was in some capsule that whooshed through London's underground.

Victoria had always liked rollercoasters and this was quite what it felt like now. If it weren't for Hart, who revelled in her cheerful reaction, she would have burst out with the loud 'WHOOO' that her lips had already formed at their sudden departure. She didn't know if their destination was closer than expected, respectively if they had gone so fast that they could already reach it in a very short time, but the joyride was over far too soon.

Right when they came to a stand, the capsule opened up with a hiss. Outside was a room and at the back of said room was a broad window, at whose sight Victoria's jaw dropped. Hart said something, but his voice was somewhere else, didn't reach Victoria's consciousness, neither did the figure approaching them. She simply walked past it, towards the wide glass.

Mouth agape, she stared down to the largest hangar she'd ever faced in her life. Dozens of people were bustling about between a plethora of helicopters, passenger planes, private jets... In the front cross country cars were parked on the left and rows over rows of other ones opposite them. Lorries and even double-deckers could also be made out in this sea of crafts, simply every sort of vehicle seemed to be represented. Above green metal archs carried the ceiling, which a huge clock was hanging from, showing that it was about 8 pm. It was a fully active subterranean military basis, an entirely different environment most people were used to... and it had been hidden here somewhere near London the entire time, right under Victoria's nose. Neither she nor any other of the 'normal' individuals had ever gotten scent of it.

"Following the light of the sun, we left the old world...", she muttered, noticing Hart's reflection turning up next to hers.

"Columbus?" The smirk was easy to pick out in his voice.

She looked at him, smiling widely.

It felt like being pulled out of a trance, when suddenly someone cleared his throat behind them. It was the figure Victoria had blocked out of her mind, a bald man in a grey v-neck polo sweater with glasses and a clipboard in his hands, who stood as straight as a stick. Another military influence, Victoria presumed.

"Galahad.", he said in a slightly stern tone.

"My codename.", Hart clarified. "Victoria this is Merlin, your instructor."

She raised her brows, shooting Hart a glance. "Merlin..." The memory of her first encounter with the agent crossed her mind, and how she'd wondered if this Merlin was some coordination centre back then, but no, it turned out to be one single man. "It's a pleasure to meet you.", she said, shaking hands with him.

He merely gave her a nod, then turned to Hart. "May I talk to you, sir... privately?"

Hart looked like he was about to let out a deep sigh, though, instead he swallowed it and said: "Of course." Before he already followed Merlin through a black-rimmed glass door, he turned to her once more. "Keep marvelling in the meantime. With your astonishing observation skills I wouldn't be surprised if you already learnt something of your to-be trade simply by... watching."

Victoria gazed after them, attempting to catch some words of their conversation without leaving the spot she was standing in, but of course they weren't as unwary as to hold it right in the adjacent room given that 'privately' meant 'the girl must not hear that' in this case. However, she wasn't concerned at all. Hart had already made his decision, otherwise he wouldn't have told her about Kingsman and brought her to this amazing place. Merlin had no chance of dissuading him from making her his candidate. The way he'd called him 'Sir' was much more than a pleasantry here, it indicated a certain hierarchy, implying that Hart was superior. No, he wouldn't draw in his horns now and cave in.

Slowly she turned to the window again, observing the goings-on in the hangar, just like she was told. She'd have to get used to that, doing as she was told. She used to adopt to a director's proposal, not unquestioningly obey orders, get her own way and be her own independent boss in some way. That habit had to be broken, for better or worse. In return she'd become a secret agent, a Kingsman agent, though. A more than fair exchange.

Her line of thought was interrupted when her gaze rested on 3 men in parachute suit, each having a helmet tucked under their arms. Two of them she estimated to be in their late 30s, early 40s, while the one in the middle seemed to be only a few years older than herself. Not only his full dark hair - it was a little dishevelled, an unpleasant side effect of wearing a helmet - indicated it, but also that his behaviour, that he talked quite much and with joy in his face, appeared juvenile compared to his companions. It's not that the other two looked morose, but still. What caught her attention about him most, though, was that he looked straight up to the window she stood behind, whereas the others only glanced up a few times.

Victoria wondered if they could actually see her from that far down and, apparently, the answer was yes.

Before Victoria could even conclude her thought, the young man already gave her a wave, his friends shaking their heads in amusement. She laughed to herself and waved back, conjuring a wide smile on the parachutist's face.

The sound of the glass door being opened let her turn away from them, straightening her shoulders. Merlin was scribbling something down on the paper of his clipboard, while Hart approached her slowly. He wore his neutral mask, however, based on how the corners of his mouth twitched almost invisibly, she knew he was hiding a smile. Probably because of Merlin's presence.

"Henceforth you will be under Merlin's orders. You will follow his instructions, otherwise you'll have to leave." He took a step closer, lowering his voice. "The other candidates have an advantage over you due to their higher level of experience in certain terrains. Don't let them make you do something rash. Put your best leg foremost. And please..." He held out his hand to her. "Don't let me regret my decision."

Victoria took it, once more letting anticipation brighten up her expression. "I won't."

* * *

Awkward.

This was probably the best description for how she felt over entering that room, especially since Merlin left it shortly afterwards to go and wait for the last candidates. All eyes were directed at her, all six pairs. Male pairs. Not that there is such a thing as a male eye or a female one. The point was, the persons these ones belonged to were all male, and the way they were staring at Victoria now told her that they hadn't expected seeing a woman here.

Intentionally casual she walked over to the bed she'd spotted her pyjama on right under some reed green bag. The bed was quite small by her standards, though, this was no problem for her. She'd once slept on a tiny pile of hay on a camping trip with her father, since her brother's guineapig had peed into her sleeping bag, so this would be a waltz. The room it stood in, however, gave her chills.

She knew it must be underground as well for the straight route of corridors Merlin had led her through, therefore the lack of windows. Apart from that she could have believed this to be a normal forest cabin, although 'normal' probably wasn't the best word to describe its look. Rather... modest, to put it mildly. Of course Victoria hadn't expected her accommodation to be luxurious or anything - after all this was a secret agent training, not too different from a military one - but the wooden joists holding this whole thing together almost appeared to moulder, just like most of the standing beams between the beds. The rest of the furniture was indigent. The few toilets and showers in the back of the room were covered in stains and lime scale, that was very visible even from here.

Perhaps it was all tactics. They didn't want the candidates to get too comfortable here, making them concentrate even more on the training itself. After what she'd seen in that hangar Victoria couldn't believe them to don't have enough money to provide anyone with clean, modern quarters. Whether or not her theory proved to be true, Victoria surely would be able to hold a light sleep only.

"So..." Se turned to the boy who'd broken the silence. He looked a bit younger than her, 21 maybe, but his strong physique and elegant clothes spoke other tones. "Are you also a candidate, or..."

She wanted to give him a witty response, showing how his remark screamed 'Mr Obvious' and, hopefully, making him and the others feel stupid for being prejudiced against a girl competing for this position. But instead, she decided to not stir any bad feelings and stick to her manners... for now. Smiling, she extended her hand. "I am. My name is Victoria. And yours?"

He reflected her expression. "Alexander."

The others followed suit - there was a Nicholas, a Rupert, a William, who preferred 'Bill' over 'Will', a Godfrey and a Hugo - all seeming very friendly in contrast to their odd staring earlier.

"Albert.", the last one introduced himself. He'd watched the whole scene from his own bed with a blank expression, though, now, as he was shaking hands with her, he gave her a smile. However, Victoria sensed an other reason behind it than genuine delight to meet her.

She was grateful for Merlin abruptly entering the room again, so that she didn't have to think more about the meaning of Albert's countenance. The bald man was followed by two more boys, at whose sight Victoria squinnied a little in curiosity. One of them resembled the others, tall, broad shoulders, nothing special really, whereas the other one... looked utterly different. He wasn't inferior to the others concerning height, though, he was definitely the thinnest of them all. His head seemed a tad too big for his slim body, his fair skin and hair didn't contribute to a mature appearance either. Victoria noticed that he was also the only one, apart from their instructor, who was wearing glasses, behind which his attentive eyes now darted from one person in the room to another. On her, however, they rested a little longer, as the boy tilted his head. It almost made her uncomfortable.

"Fall in.", Merlin pronounced and everybody stood to attention in two rows, including Victoria. That much she knew about military training at least, although she quickly had to glance up the others to adopt the correct posture. "Ladies and Gentleman, my name is Merlin. You are about to embark on what is probably the most dangerous job interview in the world. One of you, and only one of you, will become the next Kingsman agent."

At his words Victoria had to clench her teeth to not let another wide smile spread over her face.

Merlin walked over to one of the beds, grabbing the reed green bag lying at its end. "Can anybody tell me what this is?" They all raised their hands. Merlin gave the broader one of the two new ones a nod. "Yes?"

"A body bag, sir."

"Correct. Edmund, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Merlin put put the bag down, taking his position in front of them again. "In a moment, you will each collect a body bag. You will write your name on that bag. You will write the details of your next of kin on that bag. This represents your acknowledgment of the risks that you are about to face as well as your agreement to strict confidentiality, which, incidentally, if you break, will result in you and your next of kin being in that bag." He let his eyes wander over each of their faces, probably to check if anyone looked intimidated, which wasn't the case."Is that understood?", he asked once more, receiving a nod from all nine candidates, at which he seemed pleased. "Excellent. Fall out."

As he left the room, Victoria walked up to her bed, taking the pencil that she noticed lying next to her pyjama only now. Merlin's words resounded in her head, but they didn't unsettle her. She knew how to stay mum, especially when she thought of her mother... being in that bag. But, no, this was all part of their intimidation technique, typical army style. No need to be worried. Yet.

"Uhm... are you-", she heard someone say behind her.

She took a swift turn to face the lanky boy, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Yes, I am also a candidate."

"Uh, yes, I can see that. I just wanted to ask if you're the daughter of Lydia Norwood.", he said in a slightly sheepish voice.

Victoria frowned. "Yes. How did you know?"

There his face brightened up. "I know you. I mean, we haven't been introduced properly, but my father and me have attended your mother's charity gala last spring. I'm Alasdair Whitehall, nice to meet you at last."

"Whitehall? Like in _Whitehall Inc._?", Bill, who'd apparently listened in on their conversation, asked.

Alasdair shot him a glance, while Victoria took up the thread: "Ah, yes, I remember seeing you there! Almost didn't recognised you without the dinner suit."

"And I didn't recognise you without the lips." She frowned and he laughed awkwardly: "I-I mean your wore more make-up, lip-stick and all that."

She smirked, trying to make it less embarrassing for him thereby, though, that wasn't necessary actually, since the others already started to surround him, quizzing him out about his father's company. Victoria turned away, attended to her body bag again. She wasn't really interested in business matters, but the actually reason for not playing a part in that conversation was that she simply didn't want to talk to them. They did seem nice, indeed, but they were still her opponents. It'd be easier to compete against them, if she disowned them.

It didn't take the turmoil too long to cease, and they finally all went to bed. It'd been an exciting day, probably for all of them, though, Victoria doubted that any of them had had to fight for being a candidate as hard as she had.

Several thoughts tried to gain the upper hand in her head, the thought of tomorrow's first day of training, the thought of what her mother might be doing at the moment, Harry Hart saying '_Don't let me regret my decision_', and if the others had also noticed that the standing beams had been intentionally prepared to look rotten, before she already dozed off to sleep.


	13. Sleep Tight

_**Author's Note: I'm sorry it took me so long to update, autumn semester started, and the last book of my favourite series was released and you all surely understand that I had to read it IMMEDIATELY O.O**_

_**Now, ENJOY this new chap, you super-duper cool people. I kinda like you.**_

* * *

**Sleep Tight**

_Crack_.

It was just a slight, tiny noise, almost inaudible... and still it managed to upset Victoria in such a great way. For literally the hundredth time, she rolled over, sighing. She didn't know how much time had passed since she'd gone to bed - it was surprisingly hard to tell without her cute red alarm clock with its dull light around the numbers next to her - but it felt like an eternity. Probably due to her inability to rest. Every once in a while she had fallen asleep, indeed, at least she thought so, however, it hadn't been one bit relaxing. Of course the cracking wasn't to blame exclusively, talking herself into believing that didn't make it any truer.

Victoria tried to shove those thoughts of her own soft bed, of her mother still being busy at that time in her office downstairs and so much more into the rearmost corner of her mind. She should already have grown out of getting homesick, especially since such a unique opportunity presented itself here. She should consider herself happy, enjoy every single moment of this adventure.

_Crack_.

Sighing through her nose, Victoria gave up on her comfortable position and sat up in a slow movement. Gaze fixed at the spot on the opposite wall she believed the quiet sound had emerged from, her eyesight adjusted to the blackness around. Until she could finally make out the contours of her surroundings, the alarm within her already died down. A few more moments passed and Victoria lay down again, suppressing a groan to not wake the others.

She wondered if one or more of them were just going through the same feelings of restlessness. Probably not. They'd learnt about Kingsman long before her, had had more than half a day to get ready for this situation. Not that Victoria didn't consider herself ready. Though, she doubted that any candidate had ever been so... unprepared. They'd had more time with the agents who'd proposed them as their candidates, whereas Victoria barely knew Mr Hart. No, Galahad. Now that she was planning on becoming a part of this organisation it was only proper to use his codename. If _he_ had had problems to sleep his first night here as well? If this was the usual accommodation for new recruits, he might had spent it in this very room. Maybe even in this very bed. His head could have rested on this very cushion, his head with this fine, silky, brown h-

_CRACK_.

Victoria jumped awake.

Lights were turned on, the same question echoed from all directions: "What was that?" and Victoria's eyes were fixed on the two fingers wide, about four metres long gap in the ceiling above them.

_CRACK. CRACK. CRACK._

The questions turned into curses.

As sleepy as everyone might have been before, now they all were in a tizz, springing to their feet, all shouting at once. Godfrey, being the one closest to it, darted for the door only to find it locked, which even fuelled the turmoil. Just like the many more cracks the ceiling gained in the meantime.

Victoria just watched the scene crouching on her bed. She felt panic seize her limps, at the same time paralysing them and filling them with energy that urged to break out, but Victoria had no idea in what way. How was she supposed to react to this? How the hell was a roof being stopped from collapsing?

"We have to arrange the standing beams differently!", Alasdair, who believed to know the answer to that question, announced over the voices of the others. For a second he seemed to scan the ceiling, then pointed around the room. "Put this, this and this beam to the weak points over here, here and here! The outer parts of the ceiling will withstand, the middle won't!"

"It won't work!", Bill shouted over to him, scanning the room himself. "Don't you see how brittle they are?"

"They're not! They just look like it!", Victoria heard herself blurt out. Before she knew what she was doing, she jumped off the bed and bumped her fist against the top of the beam next to her, trying to loosen it. There a hand pushed her away and Nicholas kicked the beam, again and again, until it broke free from the wooden structure above and he carried it over to one of the spots Alasdair had pointed at. Victoria drew in a sharp breath as the ceiling above it sank down ... and stopped, lying on the beams' splintered top.

In an instant the others were at the remaining beams, brought them where Alasdair ordered them to, which changed gradually regarding the worsening condition of the ceiling. Chunks of it fell off, making Vcitoria and the boys wince every time they barely hit them. Alltogether began to cling to the beams in little groups of two or three, held them in place, but dust that made their throats feel rough and the alarming sound of bursting wood made this more and more difficult.

"We need a way out of here!", Albert, who held the same beam in place like Victoria, shouted over the loud noises. "Everyone look out for an exit!"

Though they knew he was right almost everyone just kept their terrified looks fixed on the ceiling that freatened to bury them. Victoria, however, did as she was told, searched the room, the panic within her even boosting her concentration. She looked for air ducts, a hidden door, something, though, she couldn't help glancing up again and again, fearing to overlook a particularly large piece of ceiling falling on to her head, knocking her unconscious or wor-

There. On the ceiling itself. Small square without cracks. Slightly brighter shade of paint.

"Exit!", she screamed, pointing up, but immediately putting her hand back on the beam to not give it a chance to fluctuate.

"Godfrey, Rupert, check on it!" There was no tremble in Albert's voice, no crack, like it had been in Victoria's and Alasdair's before, no sign of terror that had seized all others so obviously, so that it seemed only natural to Victoria that the two boys obeyed his order without hesitation. Albert was in charge now and she was damn glad he was. He would get them out of here. He knew what he was doing. He seemed to know what he was doing. _Oh, please, know what you are doing!_

Rupert, being more of a muscle man, lifted Godfrey up, the latter hammered against the square with his palm, then, when nothing happened upon that, with his fist. He gritted his teeth, panic seized his features visibly as his pounding still showed no effect at all and he hit it even faster, even more eager and suddenly the square gave in like a reverse trap door. Godfrey let out a high-pitched laugh, climbed up and vanished from their sight.

"Victoria, you're next.", Albert ordered, but she shook her head.

"I'm close enough to the exit. The ones in the back must go first, or they'll have less time to escape."

He gave her an irritated frown. "Women and children first and no _go_!"

"_Backmost first_!" She grabbed Hugo standing at the rearmost beam about two metres away by his collar and, before getting back to her beam instantly, tossed him towards their exit. Or rather she attempted to, as the strength slowly left her arms from holding that heavy wooden thing in place. Or it's never been there anyway, she didn't know and didn't care. All that mattered was that Hugo now stumbled across the room towards Rupert, let himself be lifted up and disappeared into the hole in the ceiling just like Godfrey before him.

"Next!", Rupert shouted, a look of horror crossing his face as the beams they were holding cracked loudly. Victoria shrieked when a splinter shot out in front of her. Soon the beams would burst. Not much time left until they'd get burried.

Alexander came next, then Bill, then Alasdair and Edmund and when Nicholas left his position a loud _bang_ rang out. Victoria turned away from the bursting beam at the back of the room, screaming and squeezing her eyes shut.

"Now you!"

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes, left Albert alone with their beam and ran up to an utterly appalled looking Rupert. He flung his arms around her legs and literally hurled her up that square hole and suddenly there was cold all around her. Hands on her arms, hands on her back. They dragged her up, dragged her out of this hell and then she felt gras between her fingers and she knew she was back above ground, lay somewhere on the lands owned by Kingsman, sucking in breaths of fresh air.

Save. She was save. She wouldn't be burried alive.

The rush of adrenaline died down bit by bit. Victoria's head ached, her body felt worn out, the loud noises from before left a ringing in her ears. More and more she got aware of the cold around her, as it came in touch with the sweat on her skin, making her freeze. All Victoria wanted now was to keep lying there on the ground, under the night sky, where no ceiling could fall down on her. A blanket would be nice, though. And a pillow.

She recognised Merlin's voice somewhere beneath the ringing and turned around, struggling to get up fully due to her shaky legs.

"-worked as a team, indeed...", he was just saying, all matter-of-factly, though, noone seemed to pay full attention to his words. Her fellow campaigners just stood around with shocked faces. Albert crouched right next to her in the grass, panting just like she did, frowning just like she did, but not in the confused way. She followed his gaze down to the square she'd been pulled out from. Or what was left of it after the ceiling's collapse she hadn't realised happening over the concentration on her own sensations.

"Alasdair, Victoria - good job assessing the situation. Adjusting to the surrounding environment, calculating where to support the ceiling so fast was impressive, Alasdair, really impressive. All in all you would have all reacted exemplarily, if it weren't for one fatal flaw..." His tone darkened. "... You wasted time arguing. You were too slow. Far too slow."

As Victoria looked up to face him and the others realisation finally hit her like a demolition ball.

Rupert wasn't standing with them.


	14. Forming Fronts

_**Author's Note: Heyaaw :D I just want to inform you that mayybe I won't be able to update in the next weeks, since I trying to finish my very first novel (a steampunk fantasy story called "The Art Of Hunting Monsters" ... FUCK YEAH) to participate in a contest for young writers! Cross your fingers for me!**_

_**As usual, I thank all of you who reviewed and favourited and actually read this story :) You have no idea how much it raises my spirits especially now that I'm so stressed with work and university.**_

_**ENJOY, my lovelies, AND KEEP REVIEWING!**_

* * *

** Forming Fronts**

Victoria hadn't felt that ugly in many years. No matter how much in a hurry she'd been, she'd always made sufficient time for covering her physical flaws, not least because of her mother's saying "_Your looks are the first to be judged._". But not today. Today she hadn't even gotten around applying day cream, even though they'd finally been reunited with their luggage, following their first test. Merlin had led them into what seemed like Kingsman's central building right after, sending them to sleep in their actual accommodation - a more modern version of the dormitory before - whereas '_sleep_' should be viewed as nothing but a bad joke. Victoria doubted that any of the other eight remaining competitors had come to rest that night. Though, the marks the sleep deprivation had left on her face were the most obvious ones by far.

Dark circles under the eyes, messy ponytail, skin reddenings, and the dirty looks the others had given her when they were called to fall in that morning proved that she wasn't alone with the opinion of looking hideous. At least, as they were standing in this sort of small warehouse now, fully dressed in the grey uniforms given to them, Victoria managed to abandon the exhaustion from her expression.

"As some of you will have learned last night teamwork is paramount here at Kingsman. We're here to enhance your skills, test you to the limit...", Merlin's voice resounded in the hall. Of course, Victoria's attention was directed at him, but she couldn't help glancing at the cages behind him, containing various breeds of puppies. Due to her weariness she couldn't make sense of what they're going to have to do here. Were they supposed to run from them? Catch them?

"... which is why you're going to pick a puppy."

_Oh_.

"Wherever you go, your dog goes. You will care for it. You will teach it. Until the time it's fully trained, so will you be. Those of you who're still here, that is. Do you understand?" He gave a wave with his hand. "Choose your puppy."

While the others already moved forward - it was more than visible that some tried to out-walk the others in order to reach their favoured breed before someone else did - Victoria hesitated. She'd never owned a pet before, never wanted one. This wasn't because of some childhood trauma, she just had never had this connection to animals like most others had, simply preferred the presence of her own 'species'. And now she was supposed to look after a baby dog, raise it...

Slowly, she entered the bustle herself. All cages were empty except for three, one containing a little tail-wagging Beagle, looking all hopeful at Alexander and Edmund, who were still standing there with a thoughtful expression. The second, some sort of white shepherd dog, barked at them, scratching against the cage's grille. The third was only discernable as a little ball of brown and white fur, since the puppy was curled up, seemed to sleep. Victoria reached for the Beagle, though, Edmund was faster. She rather wouldn't pick the barking one, as she had the feeling that it wouldn't take long to get bitten. On the other hand, a sleepyhead like this little chappy here wouldn't be of any advantage either. After all Merlin had said the dogs shall serve as companion and Victoria didn't believe to be able to teach that one much, unless it turned out to have ants in its pants and this was only some power nap it needed before going fully hyper. It was frustrating to not be capable of assigning animal's behaviour, after it was such a simple task for her concerning human beings.

The decision was eventually made for her, when Alexander opened the barking dog's cage and took it out, whereupon it went quiet and looked around, confusion sparkling in its dark eyes.

_And then there was one_, she thought to herself and opened the last cage. Cautiously, to not frighten it, she reached in, closed her hands around the puppy and took it out to face it. However, the puppy chose to not face her. It simply hang there, eyes closed. Victoria nudged it gently. No reaction.

"Uh... Hello? Dog?", she whispered, holding it up-close. Still no reaction.

She looked around for help, but the others were already concentrating on Merlin again, who approached one after the other, asking questions and giving out leashes.

"Sir?", Victoria said sheepishly. "There's a problem with mine. I... I think it's dea-" She was cut short by the dog's high-pitched yawn. Two amber-coloured eyes dozily looked up into hers and Victoria arched a brow. "Oh, false alarm. It's not dead, just lazy."

The word had barely left her lips, as she let out a hiss following the puppy's bite in her finger. It wrestled for freedom and more than once Victoria's grip loosened unintenionally.

When Merlin eventually approached her, she still struggled for her hold of the dog.

"Its name?", he asked, ready to record the answer.

"I-I don't - Ugh." The puppy cast a somersault over her arm. Victoria wrapped the other one around it to prevent it from falling.

"Giving your dog a name is the first step to a healthy relationship between you two.", Merlin explained in a slightly irritated tone. Victoria didn't know if this stemmed from having to emphasise this more often than expected or from her own inability to take control over this wild animal in her hands.

"Uhm... Ouch!... I, uh..."

"Well?"

"Harry!"

Immediately after she'd given voice to the name, she regretted it.

For the shortest of moments Merlin glanced up from his clipboard, before putting the name down, muttering: "Harry it is..."

"No... No, no, no, Sir, I didn't-"

He handed her a leash and moved on, completely ignoring her pleading protest. She could only stare after him, feeling embarressment seize her features in form of a heavy blush.

Did she really just name her dog after one of her instructor's collegues? Why on earth didn't she think of an other name? The puppy had several brown spots on its white fur, why not naming it Spot? Or Brownie? Or Rox, or Toby, Max, Buddy, Charlie, why did all those names come to her _now_ not _then_? There are thousands of names she could have picked and what had she come up with? Harry!

With a deep sigh she concentrated on bringng the little dog under control again, realising how much its rude behaviour didn't measure up to its eponym's.

* * *

Panting "Stop!" for the hundreth time, Victoria stumbled into the room. Harry barked happily, kept tugging at the leash, as he tried to run over to the bed at the very back. Victoria ran after him and picked him up, before he could jump on to it, hissing: "No, Harry! This is not my bed! Stop!"

Her voice sounded croaky after shouting all day. And not once had it helped. Not once had this little devil of a dog obeyed her orders, which mostly consisted of the word '_Stop_'. Perhaps the heavy military gear she had had to wear during the run they were commanded to do had weakened her beforehand, but when Harry had yanked her into the wrong direction for the first time, she'd been surprised about how strong a puppy could be. The excitement about holding a machine gun, an actual machine gun, for the first time had faded away quickly, as she was dragged into knee-high wet grass, desperately trying to drag her dog back to the road. Ultimately, she must have run about twice the distance the others had covered, and, accordingly, she was twice as tired now, which was why she really didn't feel like dealing with her hyped dog again.

"Could you please tell me what I'm doing wrong?", she beseeched the passing Edmund, whose Beagle dutifully walked along beside him.

However, the boy, without so much as looking at her, grumbled: "Do it yourself." and kept going.

Victoria frowned, almost missed hearing Alasdair next to her say: "May I?"

She looked at him, saw that he pointed at the snarling dog in her arms and handed this little troublemaker over to him. While he sat down on her bed, mumbling calming words to Harry, she folded her arms, nodded over to Edmund. "What's eating_ him_?"

Alasdair grimaced. "I... don't think you want to hear the answer."

"What? What's wrong?"

It visibly made the blond boy uncomfortable saying it, but she needed to know about those bad news. "Well, I heard the others talk and they seem to blame you for... the thing with Rupert. They say you've wasted time arguing."

Victoria's face fell together with her arms. "_What_?" Only when some of the others turned to her, she realised how loud she must have expressed her indignation, so she sat down next to Alasdair, keeping a low voice from now on, which didn't moderate the anger in it. "I didn't waste time! I tried to help! Besides, who found our exit in the first place? I did! Nobody's to blame for what happened to Rupert! It was an accident!"

"And _I_ totally agree with you. Well, except that Kingsman is to blame." He giggled. "They really meant it when saying they'll test us to the limit, huh?" When he saw Victoria glaring at him, he instantly stopped laughing, concentrated on the dog on his lap. "Don't worry. Not all of them blame you. Nick, Bill and I are on the same page with you."

"Wow, thank you.", she said sarcastically. "So more than sixty percent of my fellow campaigners reckon me as a murderer..."

"They don't deem it as murder, they deem it as manslaughter!" Fortunately, he spotted the stupidity in what he'd just said before she had the chance to slap him and added with a sigh: "Aaaand that's so not helping. I'm sorry."

Victoria turned her black look away from him, watched Albert, Edmund and Godfrey talking to eachother at the back of the room. "How am I supposed to work with them in a team? Next time we get tested, they _intentionally_ leave me behind..."

"No, they wouldn't go that far. If they did something like that, they'd be booted out of here immediately and, in the end, all those formed fronts mean nothing, since we're all here for one and the same reason: Land this job. Oh, I guess I found your dog's weakness!"

Victoria averted her gaze from the group to look at what Alasdair was doing. Harry lay between them on the bed now, panting with a wide smile, as the young man scratched him behind his ears. Seeing him that calm actually surprised her, though, relief was the prevailing feeling.

"How did you do that?"

Alasdair smiled. "We had three dogs when I was little and this always worked. Well... Mostly. Here try it yourself."

Cautiously they replaced his hands with hers, but for Harry it apparently didn't make any difference. It didn't take long and he yawned again, closed his eyes.

"Your perception skills are remarkable, by the way.", Alasdair rose to speak again, as he got up from her bed. "Use them. Put the others out of contention with them. I'd rather have you as a competitor than them."

"Why? Because you think I'm easy to beat?"

He frowned, seemed honestly taken aback. "The- the opposite. I think you're better than them. And I... well... I like challenges, you know?"

She raised a brow at him, smirking weakly, which conjured an odd look on his face and he quickly said: "Well, good night." Then towards the puppy at his side - a Greyhound, Victoria figured: "Come, Theodora."

As he started walking towards his own bed, Victoria asked, still grinning: "You really want to call your dog Theodora?"

He smiled at her. "Yes. It was the name of my deceased mother."

Victoria's eyes widened. "Oh my... I'm so... I'm so sorry..."

There he broke out into a giggle. "Just kidding." Still with a broad smile on his face, he added: "My mother's name was Angela."

The others, who'd listened in on this bit of their conversation, glowered at him. "You're so weird, Whitehall.", Albert harrumphed.

Alasdair shrugged, chose to ignore further disapproving looks, and Victoria, biting her upper lip to hold a loud laugh in, chose to like him.


	15. Gun Dogs

_**Author's Note: YEEEEES I'M BACK PEOPLE! Gosh, you have no idea how I missed it to write ffs! And you know what? I'm currently spending a few days in the very spa I've been creating this story in exactly one year ago xD Great place for inspiration!**_

**_As I told you I had to finish my very first novel (it turned out being *AVPM singing voice* TOTALLY AWESOME), which is why I have been gone for so long and I have to say that I'm truly _amazed_ how many people kept reading the story despite the fact that it hasn't been updated for months O.O Guys, _you _are the ones being TOTALLY AWESOME and I just want to let you know that I'm so proud of being part of the Kingsman Fandom, of being part of the fangirl community in general. And _you_ are one of the reasons for that... AW, COME THE HELL HERE AND LET ME CUDDLE YOU OKAY?!_**

**_So now I hope I can make up for the long wait with an extra long chap! (considered splitting it up into two or three chaps but.. meh)_**

**_ENJOY, Ladies and Gentlemen! SO LOOKING FORWARD TO YOUR REVIEWS!_**

* * *

**Gun Dogs**

It always looked so easy in films. Load the gun, hold it in front of you, fire. That's more or less it. In real life, though, it was quite a bit more complicated.

Victoria tried to internalise all those terms - receiver, rear sight, trigger guard etc. - Merlin had lavished them with earlier, but as passionless as he'd been pattering them, it seemed as if he was giving the theoretical part about shooting less meaning than the practical one anyway. And at that she was surprisingly good.

The recoil had caught her off-guard at first - she hadn't banked on it being that strong, which resulted in her almost hitting her own face with the gun's barrel and of course in suppressed laughter of some of the boys despising her - but as soon as she'd gotten used to it the bullets of her SIG-Sauer P226 had ripped holes into that man-shaped black sillhouette on white paper as if she wanted it to look like cheese. She still needed a short moment to aim, but it felt as if this was just a matter of practice and, after all, she _was_ an extremely fast learner. The others seemed to already have said practice, though, or at least most of them.

Godfrey and Nick were a bit more imprecise shots than the rest, probably due to being immensely nervous - they either had absolutely no experience with guns or they did and connected them with a trauma. The other boys didn't have such problems, appeared familiar with this sort of 'sport', thanks to some started military education, Victoria presumed, just like that Bristol-boy Harry Hart - no, Galahad! Victoria should get used to calling him by his codename as soon as possible - had almost proposed as his candidate. She didn't know if he had been better or worse than her concerning shooting, and she actually didn't want to know, but one thing she knew for sure: Whoever he was, he would never be as good as Albert and Alasdair.

Former was apparently so used to the blowback and the actual shot that he didn't even wince at it like most others did, including Victoria. Not once. But that was to be expected of him. She only ever experienced him as the stoic kind of young man, the perfectionist who took every single bit of his training deadly seriously and, therefore, was able to stay absolutely calm in a situation like this.

Regarding Alasdair, however... her knowledge of human nature had failed miserably. The way his eyes behind his glasses swiftly darted from target to target, the way he firmly but not frantically held the gun in his slim hands, while keeping a totally straight face when he pulled the trigger made it more than obvious that he was absolutely familiar with shooting. Being the son of his famous businessman father, therefore, being part of british high-society, Victoria could have imagined him having some experience with hunting, indeed, but _that_?

"You're really good.", she, who was waiting for the rest of her fellow contestants at the next meeting point on a field, complemented Alasdair quickly with a look, which implied that she would like him to tell her the reason for this unexpected skill of his.

"Thank you.", he answered with a smile, completely missing or ignoring this indirect question. Victoria arched a brow at the blond boy, but he already concentrated his attention on Merlin.

"Can anyone tell me what this firearm is called?", he asked everybody around, holding up a weapon Victoria identified as sniper rifle, however, she was certain that Merlin actually wanted them to go more into detail.

Immediately, all hands raised, except hers.

"Yes, Alexander."

"Accuracy International Arctic Warefare, Sir."

"Correct. To be even more precise, it's an Arctic Warefare Magnum chambered in .338 Lapua Magnum. This rifle is used by a large variety of military forces, since it is designed to withstand some of the most hostile wheather extremes, which is also why it is currently the most popular one here at Kingsman. One after the other each of you will come forward and try to strike the target there." With his thumb he pointed over his shoulder, where, at a distance of about 600m, Victoria spotted something that looked like a crash dummy. "You have three attempts." He paused, let his attentive gaze wander over them, before he fully turned towards Victoria. "You first."

Outwards she let herself look relaxed as she took a few steps forward, though, inside, she screamed. Why did she have to go first? Merlin surely didn't want to torture her on purpose - perhaps it even was his intention to support her thereby - but it actually felt like torture. All the eyes were fixed on her. She could literally feel the boys who blamed her for Rupert's... accident... anticipating her failure, and they probably didn't even drag that in by the head and shoulders.

"Have you ever gotten to use this kind of firearm?", Merlin asked as he handed it to her.

"No, Sir."

If he was annoyed by her lack of experience, he didn't show it and Victoria was immensely greatful for that. "Lie down on your stomach. Place your left hand here, your right here. Butt against your shoulder, not the collarbone or anything in between... Harder. If it merely touches your shoulder, the blowback will injure you. Now look through the scope. Can you see your target?"

A thin black cross with numbers around it stretched across the round part of the field Victoria saw through the sniper scope. Ever so slowly she moved the rifle. Every centimetre here resulted in whole metres there. When the dummy finally appeared before her eyes, she stiffened. "I got it, Sir."

"Good. Fire."

Victoria pulled the trigger and, instantly, took a sharp breath, as the butt of the weapon crashed hard into the shoulder. She heard someone chuckle behind her and, after indulging in a moment of shock, she threw a glance back to find Edmund and Hugo barely able to keep their laughter between their lips. Which was worse, however, was that Albert looked her straight in the eye, his brows slightly raised in mocking fashion, as if telling her '_I knew you weren't qualified for this_.'

"Silence!", Merlin hissed, making those two clowns hush at once. Then he addressed Victoria, interrupting her gaze duel with Albert. "This injury on your shoulder could have been avoided if you'd listened to what I've said." He nodded towards the undamaged dummy. "Try again."

Victoria reloaded the rifle, tilted her head to look through the scope once more. She had to re-adjust the rifle's position, since the recoil had moved it quite a bit. As soon as the dummy was in the centre of the circle which made her field of vision, she pressed the weapon's butt hard against her shoulder, which sent a twinge through her body. She winced, tried to ignore the pain, though, and concentrated on the rifle's position. If she did the same mistake again, it'd hurt even more, so she better got it right now.

A muffled chuckle disguised as a cough disturbed this concentration.

From the corner of her eye Victoria saw Merlin halting any conversation before it could actually emerge only by one look, still she knew that they'd just been making fun of her for not damaging the dummy in the slightest.

"Sir,", she raised her voice in the most matter-of-fact tone, as she felt her fingers around the rifle tingle in anticipation. "does it matter where I hit the target?"

"Main thing is you hit it, but focus on the crucial points such as the head."

"Crucial points...", she repeated whispering.

Squeezing her left eye shut, she brought this thin black cross before her into position, let her body be one with the weapon in her hands and pulled the trigger... which was followed by a loud "Ooooh" of the others.

She smirked at the sight of the hole she'd just shot into the dummy's crotch and threw another glance back. Alasdair was grinning widely, whereas his fellow contestants had certain disgusted expressions on their faces, some were even shifting in discomfort. It was hilarious.

"Well..." Victoria looked up at Merlin, who seemed surprised. "That is a crucial point... But with your last shot focus on the head, alright?"

"Aye, Sir.", she answered smiling, reloaded, took aim and the next moment the bullet went through the dummy's head as if it wasn't even there.

While Victoria stood up, Merlin was taking notes on his clipboard. "Good. Very good. Concerning precision you've set the bar quite high, Victoria. Let's see if you are doing this good tomorrow with moving objects. Nicholas, you're next."

* * *

As much as morning's shooting session and the theoretical lessons after lunch had raised Victoria's motivation for this competition, the training in the afternoon boosted it to a whole new level.

Seeing herself looking... petite... in her sports wear - white t-shirt und dark blue tracksuit trousers- compared to the others standing at attention in this well-lit sports hall, with their muscly arms and taut calves that would have some girls' knees turn to jelly, hadn't exactly been a great start, granted, but watching Mr. Walters - no codename, therefore, no actual Kingsman as it seemed - demonstrate this 'self-defense' technique on Alasdair almost washed her soldier-like blank expression away and make way for an eager smile.

She _did_ feel pity for the lanky boy, of course, especially since his tensed facial muscles revealed that he suffered more than he'd admit to, holding a cry of pain behind compressed lips, as this colossus of a man twisted his arm behind his back. After all, he _was_ the only one who looked even more out of place here than Victoria, with his glasses and those thin limbs sticking out from under his clothes like twigs. No way he had any kind of experience in physical labour. Therefore, Victoria constantly felt the urge to step in, demanding their instructor to choose someone else to demonstrate the techniques with, however, she suppressed this urge, concentrated on observing. She wasn't here to make friends, after all, she was here to become a Kingsman agent. And Kingsman agents had to know how to fight properly and this, she was going to learn here... Finally.

After he'd drilled it into them that a strong position was the basis of every fighting move, Mr. Walters introduced them to two different reactions to a frontal blow, both beginning with redirecting the opponent's arm to the side. Then they could 1 - grab the elbow and, thereby, clear space for one's own strike or kick, 2 - clamp the arm between one's own and, pulling with one and and pushing with the other, easily make the bone inside_ snap_. As sharp-eyed as Victoria was, she noticed that there were almost no tightly tensed muscles on their instructor's massive body, meaning that there was no particular strength behind his movements, just swiftness. It was a mere game of action and reaction. Nothing Victoria'd have problems with.

"There are many other ways to react to such a punch, but today we will focus on these two to improve your response skills.", Mr. Walters announced after he'd put an end to Alasdair's suffering. The grumpy looking boy took his place in line beside Victoria, whereat she gave him a light smile as a cheer-up. It wasn't returned, though.

"Alright!" The colossus with a voice which sounded like the roar of a lion let his large hands clap together. "Get into pairs!"

Victoria turned to Alasdair, but found him gesturing Nick next to him. Alright, then not him. She quickly looked around, trying to remember which of the boys was not blaming her for what happened to Rupert. But it was too late anyway. Everyone already had a partner... everyone except Edmund.

Victoria sighed to herself and walked towards him. No matter how much she disliked him, she would finally get to learn how to fight like Mr. Hart - Galahad, good gracious! - and that was indeed one of the reasons she actually wanted to be here. When Edmund spotted her, though, he grimaced, apparently being more picky than her. It bordered on insolence how he seeked help from Albert and Hugo, whilst they just eyed her and him suspiciously as if she was the plague and about to affect him.

Victoria kept going with her head held high and, without uttering a word, immitated Mr. Walters' basic position in front of Edmund.

Eventually - and Victora was quite sure that their instructor's sudden appearance next to him played a big part in that - the broad-shouldered boy gave in and followed suit.

"The ones closer to the wall strike, the others try to fend them off, with whichever method suits them best.", Walters announced and Victoria, since she belonged to the latter, prepared herself for carrying out her first self-defense technique.

"Uh, Sir?", Edmund raised his voice, eyeing her, and Walters turned to them. "You want me to... to punch her?"

"Did I stutter, boy? Yes, I do."

Edmund looked at him, visibly feeling uneasy. "But she's... she's a g-"

"A candidate.", Victoria ended his sentence sternly. "A candidate who is trying to learn, so would you please be so kind and hit me..." She let a smirk play around her lips. "...if you can..."

As expected, a spark of anger flared up in Edmund's brown eyes, while Walters seemed slightly amused and with a "You heard the lady." he stepped back, providing enough space for the exercise. Edmund just kept staring at her.

Victoria could barely hear him murmur "For Rupert", when suddenly his fist crashed into her face.

Lights exploded in front of her eyes, her muscles contracted and she felt her back making contact with the workout mat beneath her, while she herself had no clue what was happening. Fuzziness was clouding her mind and pounding noises her hearing, which kept her from thinking straight. She blinked, tried to get rid of this orange veil that had lain over her environment, and only when it faded and her surroundings took proper shape again, she allowed herself to exhale. Victoria hadn't even noticed herself gasping, but then again, she hadn't noticed much since the punch anyway.

Over the slowly decaying hammering in her ears, she heard Mr. Walters curse under his breath and a moment later there was something cold and slightly wet held against the left side of her face. Behind closed lips she groaned at the cooling sensation and got to her elbows.

Everyone had stopped training and was watching her, one or two with a rather shocked expression, one or two with neutral ones and then there was the rest... trying to hide the malicious joy that was seizing hold of them. They were truly pleased with the sight of her being beaten. Agitating.

"What are you staring at? Go back to your own training, or I will teach you a similar lesson Miss Norwood just got taught, is that understood?!", Mr Walters' voice roared through the hall, as he was helping her to her feet. In a much calmer tone he asked her: "Do you think you can proceed training today?"

Victoria pressed the gel pack against her left eye in hopes of reducing the pain that was throbbing around it, while she fixed her right one on Edmund, who was just exchanging glances with those gloating with him. Her nails dug deep into her skin, when she clenched her fist at the sight.

Grimly, she replied: "Yes, Sir."

* * *

It cost her a great deal of effort to turn the water of eventually. The last drops falling from the shower head dripped onto her sore shoulders, ran down her likewise sore back. As it made her skin tingle at the touch, the hot water felt like some healing elixir, however, there would be much more needed to actually cure Victoria from the exertions of the day.

It certainly wouldn't be called a proper drubbing she'd received, but her back and face still had made the acquaintance of the workout mat more often than she'd preferred, and than she'd expected.

What was wrong with her? The night she'd met Galahad _she_'d been the one to give full grown men a whipping - yes, they'd overpowered her in the end, but, after all, they'd been in the majority. '_I clearly underestimated yo_u', the Kingsman even had said. And now, when her fighting skills really mattered... she messed up. Edmund and the others had dashed her hopes of being better than most, faster than most in less than two hours of training. It was a painful defeat... literally.

Groaning, Victoria stepped out of the shower, rubbing her hurting shoulder. It wasn't that bad, though, was merely marked with a small red bruise, which was barely visible compared to what had formed around her left eye. At the sight of the injury in the mirror in front of her, Victoria arched a brow in disbelief. It looked so surreal how this purple crescent went from right under her brow to the upper end of her cheekbone, spreading various shades of red and blue around her eye, while her lids weren't swollen at all. If it wasn't for the twinge running through her every time she blinked or something touched the coloured area of her skin, even a breath of air when she moved her head a tad too quickly, she could have sworn it was just some sort of special effects make-up.

With a deep sigh, she applied the soothing ointment Walters had given to her after the training, got dressed and left the bathroom. They _did_ have showers in their dormitory and Victoria wouldn't mind using them together with the other candidates, but Merlin had insisted on a separation and she, being simply too tired to refuse, had complied with his orders. Now, she stood in a dimly lit corridor, quickly remembering the way back. Since Kingsman obviously wasn't prepared for accommodating females, this bathroom was located in a completely different area of the underground system than the dormitory.

But Victoria didn't care. She was too exhausted to care.

Untying Harry's leash she'd fastened down to the door handle before, she and her annoyingly frisky puppy set off. Like everyone else, Victoria'd picked her dog up earlier from that day-care centre for dogs they had here in the Kingsman estate, where they were having their theoretical lessons with Merlin. The puppies of the others had seemed similarly tired as their owners, which was why they'd obeyed to everything they'd said... How Victoria envied them. Apparently, Harry had slept all day instead of frolicing around with his fellow animals, making him wide awake now, much to Victoria's dismay.

Struggling to pull him, who apparently would much rather chase after some invisible things, through the door, she entered the dormitory. "Harry, get... in... here...", she told this snarling little troublemaker, before she ran out of patience, lifted him up and, scratching him behind his ear just like Alasdair had showed her yesterday, she brought him to the metal kennel in front of her bed.

After closing its door, which made the brown spotted dog bark, she hissed quietly: "And here you'll stay until you calmed down, am I clear?" When nothing but more barking was offered as response, Victoria just shook her head and stood up. Only now she realised the silence around her.

Confused, she looked around.

Alasdair was lying on his bed, absorbed in a book and whatever was coming out of the headphones of his Walkman, Bill, Nick and Alexander seemed to be asleep already, whereas Albert, Edmund, Godfrey and Hugo, were sitting together on the beds of the two latter and... were staring at her. Discomfort overcame her, which lasted even when the three of them stopped staring and resumed their conversation in low voices.

They were talking about her. Victoria couldn't hear a word they were saying, but she was absolutely sure of it. They'd enjoyed each of her failures today and now they apparently felt the urge to talk about it. Or they were forging out a plan how to use her physical incapabilities to throw her out of this competition. Or their conversation had nothing to do with her. No matter how incredibly improbable this last option was, Victoria needed a bit of security that she was not just growing overly paranoid.

Putting on a more relaxed face, she walked over to Alasdair. "May I?", she asked when he looked up from the book in his hands, nodding towards his bed, although he had already made space for her.

She smiled at him, who was quickly taking his headphones off, as she sat, even though she actually didn't feel like smiling at all. "I hope I'm not disturbing you, but..." She spoke low. "You don't happen to know what those blokes were tattling while I was having a shower, do you?"

Alasdair grimaced. So no paranoia after all.

"They were discussing the question of why you are here.", he answered in a tone that made it clear how much he disapproved of his fellow contestants' behaviour.

Victoria furrowed her brow. "They know why I'm here. I'm trying to land this job, just like they do."

"No, sorry, I might have expressed myself unclearly. They didn't discuss the reasons you have for being here, they wondered what you did to deserve it to participate in this competition, concerning your..." He paused, bit his bottom lip, seemingly chose his words very carefully. "... your insufficient physical capacities."

Victoria straightened her shoulders and looked away. It made her extremely uncomfortable that it not only didn't surprise her, but that she understood it. They _did_ have a point there...

"Don't worry,", Alasdair's soft voice interrupted her thoughts and she directed her eyes at him again. His expression was an uncommon mixture of compassion and bitterness. "you're not the only one they talked about that way."

She frowned in confusion, before she already rememberred Alasdair being the only one apart from herself who'd had to accept bitter defeats during todays' training. Even Nick she'd caught smirking to himself everytime he'd easily sent the gawky blond boy to the mat, though, that moment, Victoria'd been too concerned with her own disappointment to actually realise that there was someone else who suffered just as much, if not more, regarding the fact that the others seemed to blame her gender for her weakness, which they couldn't do in his case.

Victoria's frown deepened. "They ran you down _in front of you_?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his bed. "Well, to be fair, they probably thought I couldn't hear them anyhow, but, you know, audiobooks aren't usually particularly loud, so..." Then he looked up at her with a sudden change in his face. Curiosity seized his features, as he spoke even more quietly than before: "I don't want to be rude, but... how _did_ you manage to be proposed as candidate?"

Victoria cocked her head to the side, the tiniest of grins on her lips. "Will you tell me how _you_ did it?"

Alasdair returned the look. "No."

"Well then, I'm sorry. Top secret." To not give him a chance of pestering her any further, she quickly changed the topic, pointing at the book on his lap with her chin. "You are reading _and_ listening to an audiobook? How is that even possible?"

"Oh, it's just some kind of studying cassette, useful combat terms repeated over and over again and things like that."

Victoria nodded, even though she actually disapproved of his way to deal with the situation both of them were in. She definitely was no expert on the field, but even she knew that fighting couldn't be learnt by hard... however, she didn't want to spoil anything for Alasdair. Even though Nick and Bill were, as he'd said, 'on the same page' with her as well, he was the only one she felt a certain connection to, the basis of every friendship, and if studying gave him a feeling of security, then she wouldn't restrain him from doing so.

"You know what?", she spoke up, letting enthusiasm gain the upper hand in her voice. "We two are at an advantage over the others, actually."

The lanky boy gave her a questioning look.

"It's like an Ugly Duckling scenario. Due to our current condition, we have plenty of room for surprises and, believe me, we_ will_ surprise them.", she whispered smiling, stood up and turned back to Harry. If she had to undergo hard training all day, he'd have to as well. At least a few minutes before_ finally_ going to sleep.


	16. Living the Dream

**_Author's Note: PEOOOOPLEE! WE MADE THE 10,000 VIEWS! Thank you so much for reading and, of course, your reviews! I wouldn't have thought to receive some so quickly again :D You guys ROCK!_**

** joycelyn_: Thank you so very much :)_**

** GiraffePanda2_: I ALMOST DIED OF LAUGHTER! You, my lady, are brilliant. "PUNK ASS BITCH BOYS"... *wipes tear away* amazing..._**

_**I also received a review that somehow isn't displayed here (even though I allowed it to appear O.o) where a wonderful guest asked for more Harry: ****There is going to be AWESOME stuff in this story featuring Harry (since when is he doing anything not AWESOME? :P), but for now I'm afraid you'll have to go without him. Currently, the focus is on Victoria's training, during which it'd be illogical for him to appear... even though... there is a chap coming up that... Naaaah I'm not going to spoil you. You'll have to keep reading to find out, my lovelies ;)**_

**_So, Ladies and Gentlemen, please enjoy this next chap and keep reviewing!_**

* * *

**Living the Dream**

Leisurely, Victoria pressed her back against the wall. Her hand closed around the pistol grip, while she tilted her head from one side to the other to ease her shoulders. Apart from the tingling sensation in her stomach anticipation released within her, she was calm, calmer than most people would be when awaiting something like that. Anyway, she _was_ living an entirely different life than most people.

Shouting reached her ears, and then seven men hastened into the room through the door next to her, seven men in body armour vests and having various weapons at the ready. They completely failed to notice her... Perfect.

"Where is this bugger?", one of them grunted in an irish accent.

His question was answered by the yelp of the rearmost one of the group, as Victoria suddenly hit the back of his head with the umbrella she held in her left, using its handle as a hook around his neck right afterwards to yank him towards herself. When they all spun around in shock, she already shot through the guy's shoulder, making him her shrieking shield, as her bullets pierced through hands, arms and legs. The hit ones cried out in pain, though, thanks to the room's not really overwhelming size, not all of the group got injured, whereby she soon threw the human shield at them and entered close combat. She knocked the umbrella's end into one's nose, dodged the punch of another, carried out a quick turn and hit the man's temple with her elbow. Her movements were fast yet calculated. The ones of a Kingsman agent.

It didn't take long to checkmate them all except one man in the corner, who now pointed his machine gun at her, shivering in fear. Victoria's brillant performance must have intimidated him. Justifibly so. It really _had_ been a good and quick fight, and she wasn't even out of breath. It wouldn't be difficult to disarm this last one, she just had to use the right techni-

A bullet through his head made the man stop shivering and drop to the ground.

"Sometimes less is more, Miss.", a smooth voice behind her sounded, making her smirk.

Galahad.

She turned around, looked into that neutral mask that was so typical for him to wear as face. However, behind it, she now sensed a hint of amusement. A certain kind of delight sparkled in his eyes that told her that this was definitely not going to be an ordinary lecture.

Victoria licked her upper lip, watched the Kingsman in the delicate navy blue suit, which hugged his athletic figure so wonderfully, stroll up to her, never taking his eyes from hers. When he came to a stand in front of her, he looked her up and down, letting the tingling sensation from before grow even stronger. He brushed a loose strand of her dark hair out of her face, gently placed his right hand on her cheek then and _SCREEEEAMED_-

\- making Victoria lift her heavy lids.

She heard Merlin turn off the alarm clock, say something like "I expect you all outside and ready for the morning exercises in 15 minutes precisely." and then he left the dormitory.

How could it be 5:30 already? It felt like Victoria'd just lain down to sleep and now she had to get up again? She'd actually always been an early bird, regarded having a lie-in as nothing but a waste of time, but since the training had begun last week, sleep felt more and more like a luxury she'd actually kill for... especially when she was having a dream like that.

With a suppressed groan, she sat up and swung her legs off the bed. Her back hurt from getting kicked there during yesterdays training, and so did her thighs, her arms, her _everything_.

"What's on today?", Bill, kicking the green blanket off his body and rubbing his eyes, asked with a scratchy voice.

"Running, orienteering, maths and combat training."

The boy looked at her in horror. "Maths? Again? Oh, I hate maths!"

Victoria kept her reply to herself, simply arched a brow at him. She couldn't understand how anyone here could detest Merlin's theoretical lessons as they were the absolute easiest part in the whole programme. But then again, a sturdy young man like Bill didn't have near as many problems with the physical efforts they were confronted here every day as she did, which was why she was more scared of anything else than maths today...

Subtly, she shook her head to get rid of any unnerving thoughts.

All this ardous training would be rewarded eventually. In the end, she'd become the venerable fighter-lady she portrayed in her dreams if she just kept training hard.

Yes, everything would be alright... hopefully.

* * *

It was this year's first sunny day. The sky was freed from clouds and of a beautiful blue, and the air warmer but freshened by a mild breeze. People around England were probably enjoying themselves outside... all except the Kingsman trainees, of course.

Instead of bathing in sunlight, they were dropped off in the middle of nowhere, wherefrom they had to find their way back to the Kingsman estate, which was a distance of about 10 miles they were obliged to run in full military gear, naturally, and equipped with nothing but a very vague map. And Victoria could not explain to herself why she was so eminently far behind all the others. After all, she'd been the first one to ascertain which cardinal direction the estate was located based on the altitude of the sun, and to figure out how to use this poor excuse of a map... Well, actually, she _did_ know the reason and the reason's name was Harry.

No matter how hard she tried, this devil of a dog just didn't listen to her commands, had apparently just set his mind on exploring the world instead. Victoria didn't know why she of all contestants had to be cursed with this little nightmare. Granted, the other puppies did behave a bit restive sometimes as well, even slowing Albert down in this 'race' - Victoria had never seen the stoic young man that irked before - but sooner or later they all relented. All except Harry.

Huffing and puffing, Victoria finally reached the backdoor of the Kingsman estate - being last to arrive. It wasn't a particularly heavy door, but still she now struggled to open it due to little Harry tugged hard at the leash, she'd already tied to her arm, since just holding it tightly hadn't kept him from break loose and do a runner earlier. Inside, there was noone to be found apart from Merlin, standing next to a few big boxes the others apparently had already put their military gear in. Merlin didn't say anything as she emulated their deeds, merely glanced up at her and took notes, which she was immensely grateful for, since then she didn't have to look him in the eye.

"Victoria!", Alasdair's voice rang out when she eventually left the room and turned into a long corridor. He apparently hadn't arrived much sooner than her, as he wasn't already having lunch with the others, but seemed to be lecturing his small greyhound lady - Theodora - at the moment, being on one knee. He stood up, smiled at Victoria. "There you are! I heard we are going to have mashed potatoes today and I'm so looking forward to it!"

"Go ahead, I'll catch up in a minute.", she panted, turning into the next corridor.

She hastened through the second door on the right, swiftly wrapped Harry's leash around the handle inside, pratically fell down to her knees and threw up into the toilet in front of her.

It wasn't much, after all she'd had her last meal more than four hours ago, but the queasiness stayed. Black dots danced before her eyes from the dizziness that overcame her, shivers ran through her again and again and she couldn't breathe properly, no matter how much she needed to. Why in heaven's name couldn't she _breathe_?!Everytime she tried to take a deep breath, draw new energy from it, it felt as if her throat was constricted, as if there was only an extremely narrow gap she could suck air in, though, forcefully sucking air in made her feel even sicker!

It wasn't until she noticed that tears were streaming out of her eyes without her permission that she realised that it was not the puppy's fault she'd failed again. It was her own.

Victoria was exhausted. Not tired, not worn out, _exhausted_. She had always used this word for describing the feeling when she was so whacked from any activity that she was barely able to keep her eyes open, but it was actual, true exhaustion that formed the border between being fatigued and fainting.

Her whole life Victoria'd considered herself as rather athletic, at least compared to many others her age. She'd never been much of a sports person - excluding the fact that she'd always enjoyed in martial arts tournaments - but she had done a bit of training once a week to keep in shape for her roles. _This_, however... This, the Kingsman training, really pushed her to the limit, even came precariously close to push her_ beyond_ her limits.

At this point, Victoria, clutching to the lavatory seat and staring into her own vomit, wondered if she was going to make it out of here alive. It might seem like an exaggeration, but she just couldn't think straight with the sensation of giddiness in her head and the shivers running down her entire body and the inability to just breathe like a normal human being... The fear of never getting rid this made panic join the ranks of her grievances.

What if this feeling of nausea stayed for days? Kingsman had no use for somebody in frail health, they would send her packing as soon as she was well enough to be able to walk! What if she _did_ get better, but training wouldn't get easier nonetheless? Would she really _want_ to wait for her first collapse? Even the thought of it was horrifying. Yes, the contestants were indeed under constant surveillance and Victoria would certainly receive instant medical treatment, but it still-

Wait. _Would_ there actually be somebody to help her? Most of the others would be glad to see her suffer, perhaps, while she also had her doubts whether Kingsman, who had not even risked an attempt to recover Rupert from the collapsed dormitory, would go to her rescue. The only one she was pretty sure would help her was Alasdair. But what if he was dismissed before her? Would she be all alone with her fears? Wasn't she already? After all, she hid here in a cloakroom and had no intention of telling anybody about the incident, in case she managed to keep it a secret.

She was alone. Alone and exhausted.

'_Don't let me regret my decision_', Galahad's voice sounded in her mind as if he was standing right next to her.

He had warned her that she'd be at a disadvantage, that this was not going to be some '_joy ride_', but hard training. Still, she hadn't listened to him. She'd been so incredibly determined to embrace this opportunity, to give her life meaning through this secret service called Kingsman, and she still was... but she couldn't deny that there was a tiny little part of her that begged her to give up. She wasn't meant for this, should just stop following this dream in favour of her own health, this part of her whispered to her again and again.

High-pitched whimpering reached her all of a sudden, followed by something nudging her leg. Slowly, very slowly to not unnecessarily give herself another boost of dizziness, she turned her head, looked down at this little creature that was so unrecognisable now. Completely giving up on his defiant attitude, Harry didn't bark, nor did he scratch her or try to free himself from his collar. No, he just had his eyes fixed on her, as if being confused why she stopped bossing him around. If Victoria had the strength to smile, she would definitely do so now. Instead, she just took one of her hands from the lavatory seat, half blindly reached out for the puppy, and stroked over his brown spotted white fur.

It was very beautiful, actually. Harry, in general. He and those cute floppy ears, his pointy tail with the brown end that made it look like a sopped brush, and then, of course, there were his amber coloured eyes, two small rings of gold encircling inky blackness. If the puppy just wasn't that stubborn and unwilling to learn, he and Victoria would probably get along very well. Him constantly ranging between sleeping and being full of beans did not pose a problem to her, not at all - sometimes both of it could be quite dinky to watch - but the fact that she wasn't able to train him only contributed to the feeling of being a complete failure. After all, Harry was a Pointer. Such dogs were meant to be disciplined gun dogs, meant to go hunting and answering a very traditional, even kind of majestic purpose. He, however, seemed more like being meant for acting like a clown due to her incompetence as a trainer... Perhaps, she wasn't meant to be a Kingsman either.

"Stop, Harry.", she murmured feebly when the puppy began licking her fingers. It just didn't do any good with queasiness still lingering within her, so as soon as he stopped, she put her hand in her lap to not give him the chance to continue.

Victoria paused in the movement, when she realised something.

Harry had stopped. She had told him to stop and he immediately did as he was told. He had never done this before, had always had his way. Could it really be possible that this incorrigible scallywag just obeyed her order? _Hers_?

Victoria closed her eyes, finally was able to take a deep breath into her longing lungs.

Perhaps, she really wasn't meant for this kind of life, but who defines her purpose anyhow? She _wanted_ to become a Kingsman and she _would_ do whatever was necessary to reach that goal. No matter the cost. That was the way she'd always handled things and she would not stop doing that now because of one setback... or the several that possibly were about to come.

Victoria flushed the toilet, gave herself one more moment to collect herself, before she already pushed her own body up to her slightly trembling legs. There were mashed potatoes waiting for her, after all.

* * *

**_Author's Note: Fortunately, I have only experienced this 'true exhaustion' once in my life, and I wanted Victoria to experience it as well because... well, it's only natural. I was 9 years old and taking part in a pilgrimage, since it's kind of a tradition in my family to do so (we're actually not religious, but we love hiking). It's been about 150 km (~93 miles) in 5 days and I really wanted to cover the whole distance on foot, even though there has always been the opportunity to go by car, because noone my age had ever done this before (in this pilgrimage community). It hasn't been that difficult at first, but the second day... the fucking second day almost broke me XD It was about 35°C (95°F) and we were hiking up and down some mointains in burning sunshine. I refused to take off my sunglasses even in the shade because I didn't want anyone to notice that I was crying without wanting it. The thing with the breathing I described here was my biggest problem. But I made it. I did the whole route on foot and to this day there hasn't been anyone who broke my record :) just wanted to share this story with you because I know some people who don't get why I'm making a distinction between feeling worn out and being actually exhausted._**


	17. London Calling

_**Author's Note: Heya, my lovelies :) I just wanted to let you know that you might expect another chap being uploaded this week, because I simply couldn't stop writing o_o Is that connected with the fact that in one of our lectures in university we had to interpret the 'Villian Jaguar commercial' (I'm sure you guys know what I'm talking about, if not shame on you and WATCH IT. Believe me, you want to) and everything I could concentrate on was 'DAYUM LOKI, GHANDI AND MERLIN LOOKING HAAAAWT'? Maybe. But as soon as it's up you'll know that this hasn't been the only factor... still a great one...**_

** Breathewithme_: Fuuuck o.o_**

** IKhandoZatman_: Yes, I did... I'm not sure how to think about this. He was quite good in Hateful 8, but I dunno if he fits into the 'Kingsman Universe'. I mean, yes, he's 'only' going to be an american southerner and not a brit (fortunately). Well, we'll see :)_**

** The Harry Guest_: I am afraid our relationship has not reached the level of development it takes to utter this particular sentence... Oh, fuck it, I LOVE YOU TOO_**

_**So, ladies and gentlemen, please enjoy and review if you would be so kind!**_

* * *

**London Calling**

Hissing, she very cautiously shifted her weight, put it onto her right foot. Her ankle hurt, but the pain was bearable. Mercifully, it wasn't broken after all. That was at least something, considering the height she'd just fallen off.

When Mr. Walters had announced earlier that today they were going to jump an indoor obstacle course, Victoria'd rejoiced inside, since that was what she had always been one of the best and fastest at in school. But then they'd entered the sports hall and Victoria knew that this wouldn't compare to anything they had worked through back then. There had been huge ladders set up overnight, walls to climb over, ropes to crawl under and much more, and every now and then some of those dummies popped up which they were supposed to hit either with applying some of the close combat techniques they'd been shown the last week, or, if they didn't have a chance to enter close combat due to a larger distance, with softguns given to them. One of those targets stood near the horizontal ladder, which was around 3m above the ground, where Victoria's sweaty hands had just made her slip, before she could even think of reacting to it popping up.

Day by day, Victoria started to build up a certain aversion against this place, not the Kingsman estate in general, only this sports hall, because every single time she left it, her entire body was covered with bruises and other injuries. As if it was accursed... or _she_ was.

"Norwood!", Walters' lion roar of a voice rang out and she snapped her head up, hitting its back against the feet of one of the hanging boys. Grimacing, she stepped aside to avoid any other collisions.

For a moment the colossus of a man paused, just looked at her in a slightly indecisive way, then continued observing the other candidates' activities and shouted: "Down to 10 for leaving the course's route!"

'Only 10?', it shot through her mind immediately. The others who had made mistakes before had to do press-ups. Victoria wanted to object, wanted to persuade him to treat her like one of the others, particularly as this mild punishment would lead to even more exclusion of their group... Still, she didn't, simply complied with his command and got down to all fourth wordlessly.

She just knew she was too... enfeebled already to perform 30 press-ups. Goodness, she would even have her problems with these 10! Climbing and hanging had strained her upper arms to such an extent that they felt like jelly. Her legs were likewise floppy, and so was the rest of her body. Letting beads of sweat run down her forehead and splash on the ground right before her eyes, it begged her to take a break, though, she ignored it, tremblingly pushed herself up and sank down again, up and down, up and down...

The shrill sound of Mr. Walters' whistle that marked the end of today's training was music to her ears.

Not bothering to hide her limp, Victoria stomped out of this place that didn't like her alongside the others. Alasdair next to her didn't hobble, still he walked quite slowly, almost too slowly for her liking, as he looked just as worn out as she did. His light hair was greasy and seemed like being glued to his head, while his otherwise fair skinned face had now assumed the colour red, especially his cheeks. If he'd already experienced an almost-collapse as well?

"Victoria!", the familiar voice of Merlin interrupted her thoughts.

She turned around, spotting him talking to Mr. Walters who was just typing in the code on the small keypad beside the door to the sports hall to lock it.

In an instant, Victoria stood to attention. "Yes, Sir?"

Merlin ended the conversation and looked at her. "Follow me.", he said, beckoning her over with a nod of his head and already set off. Victoria didn't hesitate to comply with his command, even though it instantly turned her stomach. What was the meaning of this? He wasn't going to tell her to pack her bag already, was he? After Alasdair, she was top of the class during their theoretical lessons and, yes, she wasn't exactly a fiend at shooting, but still very good, particularly when it came to great distances. Delivering a lousy performance concerning close combat and other highly physical activities wouldn't be the nail to her coffin, would it?

That Mr. Walters shot her a glance when she passed him unsettled her even more, which was why she, as soon as she'd gone past their instructor, turned her head to share an apprehensive look with Alasdair. He looked just as perplexed as her. Then, though, his face adopted rather sad features, he looked to the ground for a second and already turned to follow his fellow contestants.

* * *

She sat there, slightly shivering, only taking shallow breaths. She had to calm down, she knew it. Or at least she had to appear calm. The red light Victoria'd been waiting for flashed up. She hesitated, composed herself and, only when she felt ready, she lifted the receiver.

"Mum?"

"_Hello, love!_" The sound of her mother's excited voice made a beaming smile spread acorss her face almost in an instant - the first honest one in over a week. Victoria hadn't realised how much she'd missed it.

"Hi!", she brought forth joyfully, letting the tension leave her body by exhaling. "I thought you wanted to call every other day!"

"_Well, I considered doing so, but I didn't want your collegues to think you were mummy's darling or something like that._"

Victoria sniggered - when had been the last time she'd done that? "Very considerate of you!"

The excitement returned in her mother's voice, making it sound stretched in a way. "_Now, don't keep me on tenderhooks, love, how's your training going? Where are you at the moment? I'm already like a cat on hot bricks!_"

There, Victoria's smile drooped a little, as memories of her failures flooded her mind once again. Still, she managed to keep up her happy tone. After all, she _was_ a good actress. "It's absolutely fantastic! We're in Edinburgh and I've already learnt so many new things, methods and approaches to acting I would have never thought of!"

"_And Mr. Meyrick treats you nicely?_"

"Of course! He and the other instructors are such sweethearts!" The thought of Merlin certainly listening in on their conversation to make sure she didn't blurt out anything concerning Kingsman amused her immensely, however, lying to her mother didn't. Not at all.

Granted, it was her own fault after she'd convinced Galahad to talk her into believing that her daughter was in some method acting programme, but still... It made made her feel bad, not least because then she couldn't share her concerns and, therefore, wouldn't receive any fitting advice or support from her, which she was desperately in need of if she was honest.

"_And your fellow contestants? Do you all get along?_"

'No, mum, they consider me a murderer.', crossed her mind right after her mother had given voice to her question, forming a knot in Victoria's throat she tried to get rid of with swallowing. It didn't work. "Yes, they're all kind people as well."

"_They're not jealous for not being half as talented as you are?_" The smile on her mother's face was clearly to discern, while Victoria's now vanished definitely.

'_Not being half as talented as you are_'... If the others were about to hear that they'd certainly burst out into laughter.

Victoria frowned, closed her eyes, as the images of all her unsuccessful attempts to highly physical activities they were bound to encounter here grew stronger and stronger. It demanded a great deal of her to maintain an enthusiastic tone, when the lie rolling off her tongue made a dull pain emerge within her chest: "No, no, we're a team. We help each other out and... uhm... motivate each other... No ill feelings."

"_Good, good_.", he mother said. The relief she spoke with felt like a dagger stabbed into Victoria's heart. Her mother, her own mother, thought she was well, whilst in reality she was having the hardest time of her life... It wasn't right... It just wasn't right...

"Mum?", it burst out of Victoria before she could stop herself from doing so.

"_Yes, love?_"

What had she been about to say? It'd been a reflex, a sudden reaction to the thought of this conversation being over soon. After all, she did have to go back to the boys calling her a murderer and, after another night of fitful sleep since the fear of being burried alive kept her awake, to the torture called Kingsman agent training. Yes, Victoria would much rather keep up talking to someone who didn't consider her a complete failure, would much rather seek shelter in her mother's embrace, sleep in her own bed at home, where she was safe and warm...

Victoria wanted to go home. She wanted to quit, give up, burst into tears and tell her mother to come and pick her up. There wouldn't be anybody missing her anyway, would it? Galahad would be disappointed admittedly, but he'd get over it, eventually. He'd got better things to do than worry about some girl he only knew for a couple of months and had personally spent time with, what, 3 times? And why was she here anyway? Just to give her life a special meaning, she'd never thought of before meeting the Kingsman agent. Indeed, the others as well as herself would have it easier if she just gave up...

... And still Victoria burst out with: "Have you seen my blue hairslide? Not that I need it, I'd just like to know whether I forgot to pack it or I lost it. I can't find it anywhere."

"_Uh... Alright, I'll check if it's here._"

"Thank you."

As strong as the urge to do it was, Victoria Davies-Norwood would not quit. She'd never given up before, had never backed off when things became tougher than planned. Yes, she now faced harder times she'd ever had, but that was the path she'd chosen and she would pull it through to the bitter end.

However, the thoughts of quitting refused to leave her mind completely and the only thing she was capable of doing was caging it. At least for the moment, which was why she would have to end this conversation quickly, before they had the chance to break out and gain the upper hand.

"Mum, I have to go back to the others. We have some evening lessons coming up soon and I need to prepare for them."

"_Oh. Alright... Your brothers want me to ask you if you would be so kind as to bring them an item of each country you're visiting_."

Victoria smirked. "Did they really request it that way or was it more like 'If Victoria doesn't bring us anything, she'll never be allowed to play with our inventions again!'"

"_No, this isn't what they said! ...Well, at least not word by word.._."

Victoria laughed. "Tell them I'll be able to live without their lousy microwaves, thank you."

Her mother paused. Victoria already began to think she'd said something wrong, when she raised her voice again, a soft, almost longing tone lying within: "Y_our father will call you up some time as well. He... He's so proud of you for pursuing your dream. We all are. Even nan. We're so, so proud of you._"

Victoria's heart felt heavier with every word her mother uttered, making it a lot more difficult to answer. Therefore, her reply turned out to be coated in a breath: "Thank you... so much..."

"..._I miss you._"

Tears welled up in her eyes. "I miss you too, mum."

"_Bye, love_."

"Bye.", Victoria forced out and hung up.

* * *

The conversation with her mother haunted Victoria even into bedtime. She'd lain down quite early to have a chance of sleeping at least a bit more than usual, but, as she was lying there curled up to a ball and stroking the already slumbering Harry in her arms, her thoughts just kept racing.

What if she really didn't make it and become a Kingsman? What was she going to tell her family? She couldn't tell them the truth, obviously, but if they believed she failed the actor's camp she'd talked them into thinking was her last chance to become a successful actress, they would most probably advise her to quit her acting career definitely and try to find another passion. However, the fact of matter was... she already did.

Victoria absolutely couldn't imagine to resume her pre-Kingsman life anymore. Retrospectively, acting seemed like a childish thing, simply there to give her the feeling of being special, of living an interesting life full of variety and adventure. It was merely an illusion. It wasn't real. And if you were about to choose between the illusion of something and the real thing, you should decide for the latter Victoria now realised.

_Cocktail party effect_, it shot through her mind, when she suddenly detected her own name in the hushed conversation of two of the boys somewhere behind her.

"Why is she still here anyway? That girl is a total dead loss. They should throw her out right away.", Victoria heard one of them - she identified him as Hugo - whisper. They must think she was already asleep.

Shortly, she considered intervenig and, at least, punish them with an embarrassing moment thereby, though, she didn't. Somehow, she wanted to hear what was being said about her, even though she was pretty sure it wouldn't be anything nice. Therefore, she didn't move, took only shallow breaths to not let them know that she was eavesdropping.

"You leave it out of account that she is in fact among the best concerning theoretical matters. How fast she grasps all those concepts and methods Merlin introduces us to is truly remarkable." Victoria could scarcely believe her ears. It was Albert who spoke so highly - still quietly, of course - of her here. _Albert_. "Still, I guess she's only here yet because they don't kick anyone out in the first few weeks in general, testing the skills and only then crystalise who's _really_ suitable and actually _deserves_ to be here. Don't worry, Victoria will leave soon enough." Alright. It _was_ him.

"But if she's not suitable - which is quite obvious even without knowing her, isn't it? - then how did she manage to be here? I mean when I was proposed as candidate I was told that physical fitness constitutes a large part of the admission standards. Did the criteria change?" Hugo sounded actually upset, as if Victoria's presence was in some way influencing his own performance, which made Victoria roll her eyes.

Albert, on the other hand, was still his cool, composed self. "No, I don't think so.", he said in this typical matter-of-fact tone of his. "I do believe, however, that every Kingsman establishes his own criteria."

_'Ambition, a strong will and my extraordinary perception skills_' were the features Victoria had listed to Galahad a little less than two weeks ago that had pursuaded him to make her part of this contest. _Those_ were the actual criteria Kingsman went after and Hugo had absolutely no idea. He'd probably be eliminated sooner than he expected. The thought of that made her smirk.

"I think she was proposed by someone named Galahad."

Victoria froze.

"Who's Galahad?", Hugo asked, expressing not nearly as much confusion as it seized Victoria right now.

Where in the world did Albert know Galahad from?

"Judging from what I've heard Galahad is one of the more... unconventional thinkers within Kingsman. Last time they trained new agents, which I think is not that long ago, he allegedly proposed someone of the working class."

"The working class? Seriously?" There was no said answer, but Victoria supposed that Albert gave the other boy a nod, which was why he sounded so deprecating when he raised his voice again: "Good god... It didn't turn out that well either, did it?"

"I don't know. I didn't glean that much information from my mentor. Anyway, I could imagine such a man introducing her to this institution."

"But... I still don't understand _why_? Upon which grounds? Victoria is_ clearly not_ suitable for this Job!"

"Well, there are two options: Number one, he pursued the same unconventional ideology of bringing more variety into Kingsman like last time, so he took her because she is a woman. Or number two... because she is a woman."

Hugo's voice revealed that a frown had seized his features. "That's... the same."

Albert sighed. "Let me rephrase that: Victoria is an _attractive_ woman."

Victoria's eyes widened.

"You think he proposed her as his candidate, because she's pretty?"

"That he did it for this reason exclusively is extremely unlikely. What I say is that it may be a factor amongst others. Most probably, he's even aware that she does not have what it takes to be a Kingsman. He merely uses her as a statement."

Hugo laughed quietly, but Victoria didn't care. The only thing on her mind was that the case Albert put forward here was... convincing. If it's true that Galahad had involved working class people in this programme in the past, then it wouldn't be too far fetched that he was just following his open-minded ways in doing the same with her, wasn't it?

No, it wasn't! She had had to fight for being here! She'd had to pursuade him! It hadn't taken her that long, granted, but, after all, her argumentation-

Wait. It really hadn't taken her that long to pursuade him...

Could it be true, after all? Did Galahad think of her as a statement rather than somebody, who actually had the chance to win this competition? Did he not believe in her abilities?

Victoria didn't know what she was supposed to think. Her weary mind was not capable of processing all this information. It was simply too much for one day.

While the boys kept talking, Victoria squeezed Harry to her chest. It was fortunate that they weren't equipped with the perception skills she was, because, therefore, they didn't notice how she had to hold her breath to not make a sound, as despair eventually caused hot tears to run down her face.


	18. To Become a Kingsman

_**Author's Note: IIIII NEED TO TELL YOU ALL HOW AWESOME YOU ARE O_O Life's quite stressful at the moment and all your amazingly detailed and just lovely reviews reeeally make my day :D THANK. YOU. *smooch, even if you don't want it* **_**_One more thing: I planned this chap a long time ago and as inspiration for it served the song _Immortals_ by FOB :)_**

**IKhandoZatman_: I hope you'll be okay with me adopting your choice of words for this chap. I had _crushing_ before, but I found that _demolishing_ sounded even better :P_**

**_Now, please enjoy, Ladies and Gentlemen, and feel free to make my day by reviewing once again :D_**

* * *

**To Become a Kingsman**

_22:14_

The yellow numbers burned into her mind as if they were branding iron, denoting the extent of her restlessness. As silent as possible Victoria put the digital watch back under her pillow and continued staring into the darkness.

Harry was slumbering peacefully at her side and all the others in the dormitory were following his example, naturally. As always, the 'lights-out' command had been issued on the stroke of nine and, after working out all day, nobody here had any problems with sleeping... except Victoria.

It had been a ride on an emotional rollercoaster for her today. Now, however, Victoria didn't feel much of that anymore. The fervour she had approached both rage and despair with had slowly faded away, leaving nothing but low burning fires. She was burned out, so, _so_ tired of all these negative emotions.

In one smooth motion, she sat up. She didn't have to listen long to realise that everyone was fast asleep. The evenness of their breathing was indicator enough. With Alasdair, Hugo and Albert it was a bit more difficult, since they were either further away than the others or breathing way more quietly. Still, it was no problem for _her_.

Carefully, probably way more than she'd actually have to with this sleepyhead, she wrapped her hands around Harry and got out of bed. All her movements she kept extra slow to not generate any noises, as she placed the puppy into his cage at the foot of her bed. Her eyes were fully adjusted to the dark, so that it didn't cause her any problems to find the clothes she'd put under it the evening before. Like a ghost she silently sneaked out the dormitory's entrance door, which she knew wouldn't be locked to enable her to go to the toilet at night, though, she didn't, took an entirely different path now.

The Kingsman estate was indeed large and presumably some people had already gotten lost in this labyrinth of corridors, but not her. Not Victoria. She knew exactly where she had to go and so she did, most cautiously, of course, to not get caught. She didn't feel ashamed for what she was about to do, though. After all, she had to do it. She had no other choice.

A heavy door and a locking mechanism marked the only barrier left, but even that didn't state an actual problem for her, as she both remembered the order of finger-movements one had to carry out and due to her immensely useful perception skills noticed four keys being especially worn out, even in the dark. One attempt, and the door was unlocked, letting Victoria sneak around it, turn a few lights on and face the sports hall she was so determined to lift the imaginary curse of constant failing from.

Quickly, Victoria got into her sports wear, since she had no time to lose. If she didn't want to be the first one to leave, she'd have to reduce the other's advantage, bring them to the same level, and to achieve that she would only have the chance by spending more time training. She was 24, she'd be able to spare 2 or 3 of her 8 hours of sleep without impairing her health too much.

Was it cheating? Perhaps, and Merlin would boot her out in case he found out about it, but if she didn't do it, she'd be forced to go soon anyway. There was no other option left, so... she better put her shoulder to the wheel.

The obstacle course had already been removed, but the 'ordinary' facilities would suffice anyway. Running ten rounds along the large hall's walls for a start, Victoria let her joints work particularly hard to be as quiet as a cat. Since the thought of these nocturnal activities emerged spontaneously, she didn't have a timetable, nor did she know which area she actually wanted to focus on, which was why, after her warm-up, she simply tried something of everything.

Stretching exercises, squats, rapidly stepping on and off the wall bars' lower runges, using those upper ones that stood out to do some chin-ups - it was ridiculous how she only managed to lift her body half the way up, but to change things like that was the reason she was here - exercises on still rings and so much more.

Victoria wrapped the two pieces of her pyjamas around her hands to not cause too loud sounds, when she continued her training which the punchbags at the back of the room, hitting the double end one as properly as she could according to Mr. Walters' instructions the other day - as opposed to strengh, precision and timing turned out to be more in her nature, and still she managed to hit her face with this heavy ball several times, which fueled her determination even more, though. In the air, she carried out the close combat techniques he'd showed to them, kicked, punched, ducked, pulled out all the stops as she imagined literally _demolishing_ Albert and all the others who took pleasure in seeing her fail, although she couldn't be sure of the accuracy of her moves.

In the end she risked an attempt on the 10 press-ups Mr. Walters had ordered her to do today. It sounded like nothing, 10 simple press-ups... however, now that she'd stressed herself through all those exercises beforehand, it felt like a déjà vu. Her legs were floppy, and so was the rest of her body. Beads of sweat ran down her forehead and splashed on the ground right before her eyes, as Victoria clenched her teeth, pushing herself up and sank down again, up and down, up and down. 5, 6.. 7... Her body begged her to take a break... 8... Her elbows were close to giving in. But they must not give in... 9... '_Don't. Give. In_.'... 10!

Victoria got on her knees, streched her arms forward and put her forehead to the ground, enjoying its coolness and letting her body come to rest.

She did it. She had succeded in physical training within this very sports hall. She had lifted the curse.

All of a sudden, a rush of euphoria flooded through her, making her burst into laughter, one that could have been confused with panting, indeed, but it was laughter nevertheless. Victoria would love nothing better than to return to the dormitory immediately and laugh out loud, right into the face of those obnoxious boys. However, for the time being, she had to restrain herself from doing so, just cover her mouth with both her sweaty hands now that she lay there on the sports hall's hardwood floor.

Her time would come... And soon she might really become a Kingsman.


	19. Follow Me

_**Author's Note**: Heyaaa my lovelies! I'm sorry you had to wait for so long! It's almost exam time here and I'm already frEAKING OUT... just a bit... I'll be able to post on a regular basis in about two weeks again (in case I do pass my exams :P )_

_Aaaaaanyway have you all seen the photos and videos of them filming Kingsman 2?! I CAN'T WAIT ANY LONGER I'M FAR TOO EXCITED FOR THIS MOVIE ESPECIALLY SINCE IT'S ONLY RELEASED NEXT FUCKING YEAR WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO UNTIL THEN I MEAN YEAH I HAVE A LIFE BUT A LIFE WITHOUT KINGSMAN IS JUST NEEEEEAAAAAH *curls up weeping*_

_I hope this piece of fiction helps passing the wait. ENJOY, ladies and gentlemen, and please keep reviewing!_

* * *

**Follow Me**

Her thighs burned as if being on fire. Carrying out the breathing technique that let her avoid getting the stitch became more and more difficult. Still, Victoria didn't stop running, just kept her eyes fixed on Merlin further afar and the boys standing in two groups behind him, shouting things like "Come on!" and "Faster!". Her hand clutched the baton even harder.

She broke her gaze, as something dashed past her, and for a second she thought she'd lose this relay race despite all her efforts, but then she realised that what passed her wasn't human, but a greyhound. Theodora.

Victoria took a look over her shoulder. Alasdair was only a few feet behind her... and catching up. He seemed worn out, but determined. Similar to her.

A bark let her head snap forward again. Harry was right behind her, motivating her with his own eagerness.

A smile spread across Victoria's face, before she made her legs perform at peak, exploiting all energy reserves, giving all she got for the last few feet. The blond boy appeared in the corner of her eye and then she already rushed past Merlin, barely able to slow down and not crash into her team members.

Huffing and puffing, she leant forward, supporting herself on her knees with closed eyes. Her pulse occupied her hearing, made both her neck and hands vibrating with every beat. It was highly uncomfortable, though, her attention was directed at something else anyway.

Everyone was silent - apart from Alasdair and Victoria panting - as Merlin took his notes. All relaxed, although Victoria could make out a certain tiny itch around the corners of his mouth as if he was trying to keep a stiff upper lip, he finally announced: "The winner is Team Silver."

As soon as he had pronounced the last word, the boys around Victoria - all except the stoic Albert, of course - went totally bananas, cheered and threw their fists into the air. One - Nick presumably, as the others despising her were too busy congratulating everyone except her - even patted her shoulder.

Even though, it's definitely not thanks to her alone, it did make it feel like _her _victory, so she just vented her emotions, beamed, ruffled Harry's short fur vigorously to give him some much deserved appreciation. He was a winner too, after all.

Bit by bit, Merlin hushed them with a gesture of his hand and, eventually, turned to Team Gold, whole members, to put it mildly, looked disappointed... or rather disgruntled. "Alasdair."

Still struggling to stop panting, the addressed lanky boy straightened.

"Since they have the ability to do so, greyhounds sometimes feel the urge to outrun their owners. It is _your_ responsibility to tame your dog and keep its actions in hand. You have to pay more attention Theodora's training. Overall your sprint was... not bad...Victoria."

"Take a seat, Harry.", she whispered quickly, making her little Pointer puppy sit next to her calmly, while she straightened just like Alasdair did.

Merlin looked at her over the rim of his glasses. His gaze lasted merely a second, though, for her it felt like an eternity to wait for feedback.

"... Better.", he finally said, taking a load of a mind and making her smile immediately, although she tried hard to suppress it. "However, you still need to work on your stamina. I sensed that you would not be able to maintain this pace for much longer."

"Yes, Sir, I will work on it."

Victoria still reflected on Merlin's words, or rather one word in particular, while they all returned to the estate.

'_Better_'... This one word boosted her self-conscience to a whole new level. Now, after a bit more than two weeks of being here, it was already a 'Better'. Soon it would be an actual 'Good'. Then a 'Very good'. And, perhaps, some wonderful day, Merlin would denote her physical performance with one if his many 'Excellent's. And all because of 2 additional hours of training every night.

At first, it'd been extremely difficult to reconcile her exhaustion of the daily Kingsman workout and her indomitable will to continue with nocturnal practice. After all, she did need some hours of sleep to recover, of course. But as much as her body had worked against her in the past, it now seemed to get used to all that training, even played along with her ambition. It promptly fell asleep at around 8 pm on its own and woke up at 10, providing Victoria with a total of 6-7 hours of sleep despite all her activities, especially now that she'd also optimised them in terms of manner.

Victoria had gotten into the way of training in the dark, since that not only minimised the chance of being caught, but also improved her already marked perception skills even further, especially her eyesight. Having created a timetable for herself, she now began and completed with 10 rounds of running every time. In between, she either executed what she called 'muscle work' - exercises particularly designed for improving her strength whether in her arms, legs, stomach or other areas of her body - or she worked on specific fields such as flexibility or precision. An actual coach would probably object to how she constantly switched from one of those two areas to the other, but for her it felt like the right thing to do at the moment.

With a "You ruined everything, Whitehall!", a familiarly irritated voice let her snap back to reality in an instant.

As soon as they were down in the underground system beneath the main building of the Kingsman estate, leaving Merlin's careful observation behind, the members of 'Team Gold' suddenly came at Alasdair like a pack of hyenas. While the blond boy trudged down the corridor that led to their dormitory with, most of the boys of his team vented their spleen about their defeat by muttering one or two tart remarks and darting some sullen glances at him. For Edmund, however, this was not enough as it seemed.

"You had the opponent easiest to beat and still you messed up!", the broad-shouldered young man snarled at Alasdair, who simply ignored him, just kept walking. "You should have handed the baton to your little puppy princess, you bloody snail!"

Victoria scowled, mended her pace in order to catch up with them and intercede in the dispute - not least because he was not only sniping at her only kind-of-friend here, but also defiling her own victory - but there Alasdair turned around, still walking, his brows raised, as if he was merely bored by Edmund's outburst. "Well, if you paid attention to Merlin's instructions before, you'd know that both handing the baton over and finishing the race would only be declared to be valid if dog _and_ owner reached the finishing line. Besides... this race might have had a far different outcome if _someone _hadn't let his opponent increase Team Silver's lead even further by doing the opposite of performing at peak level..."

Edmund slowed down, came to a stand, and everyone else with him.

A staring contest emerged between him, wearing a grim expression, and Alasdair with an innocent one, which made Victoria raise her brows in astonishment. It surprised her, and to a certain extent even gave her the feeling of admiration, how dauntless he appeared, plainly careless of the consquences of what he'd just said. After all, Edmund _could _beat him up effortlessly, especially now that he was so evidently in a worn-out state...

... And still he topped the bill, faking a smile in doing so: "Oh! I apologise, my fault. Thought you'd figure it out on your own. By _someone_, I meant _you_."

Almost everyone's eyes widened, some broke out in restricted laughter and Edmund broke out in rage. Growling, he reached out to seize Alasdair by his collar.

Victoria reacted reflexively, stood in between, her hands pressed against Edmund's chest. "Edmund, calm down!", she barked at him and Harry next to her joined in.

"PISS OFF!", the boy snarled, slapping her hands away.

All of a sudden any laughter died, as Nick, Bill and even Alexander rushed forward, shouting things like "Don't talk to her like that!" and "You're supposed to be a gentleman?!"

Alasdair, no matter how calm he'd acted to be before, now looked flaming mad as well. "Apologise to her at once, or-!"

"Or what?!", Edmund interrupted him snarling. "Your oh so famous daddy comes to aid? Without your family name you're nothing! You're of no use to anybody, you beanpole-sissy!"

"Edmund!"

He spun around to face Albert, who, remarkably enough, looked sterner than he's ever done before. With a black look and standing with his legs slightly apart indicating how ready he'd be to strike, the dark-haired young man seemed genuinely done with this situation. "It's enough.", he stated in a commanding tone. "Let's go." With this he wound through the little crowd of Kingsman candidates and, without looking back once, disappeared in their dormitory.

Edmund hesitated for a moment. Then he gave in and followed Albert as if he was actually some sort of commander, but not before threatening Alasdair one last time: "Don't press your luck again... Weirdhall.".

The blond boy just rolled with his eyes, shouting after him: "Haven't heard this one since elementary school!"

Together with the rest of the boys he wanted to follow them to the dormitory, though, Victoria held him back.

"Don't.", she told him. "Give him a bit of space now. He needs to calm down."

Gazing after the broad-shouldered young man, Alasdair narrowed his eyes to slits. "Right... He has such a fiery temper, absolutely unsuitable for a Kingsman..."

"And you need to calm down as well.", Victoria rebuked him. Alasdair turned to her, confusion seizing his features as he saw the stern look she regarded him with. "You may be able to fool the others with your cool masquerade, but, believe me, I discern an actor when I see one. You are enraged, and therefore you became a... a..."

"A silver-tongued genius?", he chipped in smirking.

Victoria raised a brow in an unimpressed manner. "An idiot. Why in heaven's name did you have to provoke him like that? He could have beaten you black and blue!"

Pouting, the tall blond boy picked Theodora up, as she was scaring away from Harry smelling her bottom, which visibly confused the extrovert Pointer. "Weeeell... To some degree, that _was_ the goal behind it. If he lost his temper once for all, he'd be booted out of here in the blink of an eye. So, basically, by trying to restore his reputation, he'd become the biggest loser of us all and that'd be hilarious, wouldn't it?"

For a moment Victoria stayed quiet, just looked at Alasdair. "Alright,", she eventually spoke up again, not changing a thing about her blank expression. "You are not an idiot. You're a manipulative rascal."

"Oh, come on, you can't expect me to believe you never did a little mischief to your servants, spreading rumours, setting one against the other et cetera. It's so funny, you feel like a puppet master! Or rather a stage director!" He chuckled, but when he realised that Victoria refused to join in he dismissed it as a cough, which then forced a soft smile to her lips after all.

The small gesture lightened his face up even more, and Victoria maintained the smile, even when she amicably lay her hand onto his shoulder and said: "You won't be able to laugh with a broken jaw, dear."

Shock seized his features and he stammered: "D-don't worry, I'm in control."

She sighed, but nodded. When she turned to go, it was now Alasdair's turn to hold her back. "Hey, thank you for your intervening, but it wasn't necessary. I don't... I don't need your help, okay?" At this sudden rudeness of his, Victoria simply cocked her head to the side, which in a matter of seconds caused him to change his attitude back to shy and polite. "S-still thank you very much for your concern! Very-Very thoughtful, thank you..."

Again, she smiled. "I'll take a shower now." As she got going, she added with a grin: "And when I come back I want to hear more about the funny games you played with your staff, you silver-tongued rascal."

* * *

As soundlessly as always Victoria closed the door behind her. It didn't even pose any difficulties for her anymore, didn't take an eternity. No, sneakiness had already become second nature to her, like it was to a fox... or a Kingsman.

Perhaps it was presumptuous to compare herself to a consummate Kingsman, since she was still at the beginning of her training, but a certain degree of stealth must have been included in this profession for sure. After all they were _secret_ agents. If a secretive manner didn't constitute a large part of their craft, they wouldn't be called that way, would they? It would take the essence of being a secret agent, render the whole naming void.

A small smile played around Victoria's lips, as she remembered that she'd already given this thought voice once before. It'd been during her conversation with Galahad after she'd finally found him.

If he'd approve of her 'additional training'? She couldn't imagine him having to revert to such extremes during his own training, since he certainly had had a better basis in terms of physical fitness, but didn't he agree to ambition being an admirable trait? Furthermore, he had manipulated those hospital staff's memories and lied to his boss, which suggests that he's not that... strict when it comes to cheating...

Still, Victoria had major doubts that he would endorse her way of dealing with her own inaptness. He'd surely tell her that it's impossible to acquire the abilities of a Kingsman in such a short time and that she should finally accept that she wasn't suitable for this job after all. In the most sensitive and polite way of course.

Actually, it was odd how much his opinion mattered to her. She definitely shouldn't let her determination towards her actions be dependent on whether this man approved of them or not, particularly since she barely knew him. Among the only few things she knew about him was his name, his appearance and his profession. She had no clue about where he actually lived, how old he was, if he was single...

_Crack_

Victoria stopped dead in her tracks. Instinctively she pressed against the wall of the corner she'd just turned.

It'd been just the tiniest of noises, coming from the corridor she'd just left behind her, and still it managed to make Victoria's heart skip a beat and her thoughts racing. What was that? Was that another exercise like the one that caused Rupert's accident and she missed it? What if it was Merlin going for a little inspection round? If it was him, had he seen her? And if yes, did-

"Blimey, Victoria, you're sneaky like a ninja!"

The hushed voice almost made her jump. Both shock and relief overcame her and she needed a moment to compose herself, before she already turned the corner to face Alasdair. His blond hair was slightly ruffled and he was wearing his blue-white striped pyjamas as well as a questioning look on his face.

"Alasdair,", Victoria, getting close to him, said in a nearly inaudible whisper. "what are you doing here?"

"Well, I was ninja-ring after _you_. What are _you_ doing here?"

For a split second she scanned her mind for possible excuses and, eventually, came up with the one seeming most plausible to her. "I've got to go to the loo. You know mine's outside the dormitory. But, actually, this is lady-business, so none of y-"

"Your loo is the other direction."

_Shoot_. She hadn't thought about that. "Uh...", Victoria began to stumble, thoughts racing through her head, before her mind already fixated on one detail of what Alasdair'd said, and she raised a brow. "How do you know where _my_ loo is?"

Embarrassment washed over the boys face, making him blush a wee bit. "Y-you're not the only one being uncomfortable with peeing in front of strangers!"

"No. _You_ are, apparently, because I'm not uncomfortable with that at all. Merlin just wanted me to be separated. Why are you uncomfortable with that? It's not like the others were actually watching you. I think it's a little awkward for _all_ participants."

For a moment Alasdair seemed to struggle for words, then he blurted out - in low tones, of course: "That's not the point now! I have a light sleep and picked up on you leaving the dormitory several nights recently and, since I highly doubt that your sessions there actually take you more than two hours, you're not doing that to go to the loo. So... What are you _really_ doing here every night?"

Instantly, her heart began to beat faster. He was requesting that one exposure that made her stomach turn. "Uhm..." What was she supposed to answer now? She couldn't tell him the truth, obviously, but Alasdair was sharp, if not razor-sharp. A flimsy excuse would drip off of him like rain from her favourite Burberry coat. On the other hand, with every second passing, any excuse would become more and more unbelievable, so she quickly chose the one that popped up in her head first.

"Alright...", Victoria murmured, kneading her own hands, whereby she wasn't sure if she was simply acting nervous or actually was nervous. She sighed, let tears well up her eyes to give her performance additional credibility. "I'm... I'm frequently having panic attacks, Alasdair. Every night I-I begin to think about my failures and how hard this training is and I just... I wait until you're all asleep to go out and calm down, because... because I don't want you to know how weak I actually am..."

Glancing up at him, she noticed how Alasdair's face turned to one full of compassion. Gently, he placed his hands on her upper arms, made her look right into his eyes, as he smiled down at her. "I am really offended of how easily you can lie into my face, my dear Victoria."

Indignant, she shook his hands off. "I am not lying!"

"Yes, you are! I know what a panic attack looks like, I'm frequently having some myself. Don't take me for an idiot."

Silence spread between them as they just stared at one another. Alasdair wouldn't buge, of that Victoria was aware. Breaking eyecontact eventually, she debated with herself whether to let him in on her secret or not.

If she came up with a truly plausible explanation for her behaviour she still might be able to lead the blond boy up the garden path, no matter how sceptical he already was... However, she wasn't sure if she should bother to do so anyhow... Yes, why not just tell Alasdair about it? He was her friend after all. He wouldn't peach against her anyway, wouldn't betray her... or would he?

Pursuading herself that he wouldn't, she finally stepped up even closer to him, to not give anyone the chance to listen in on them, even though that was completely impossible due to the lack of audience. "Fine, I'll tell you... I'm..." She took a deep breath, literally had to force the words out. "I'm doing a bit of extra training at night."

At first, Alasdair's brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to say something, however, nothing came out, so that it looked more like a fish gasping for air, when his expression then changed to one of shock. "Extra training?! How? Where?"

"The sports hall."

"The- How the heck did you get in there?!"

"I... found out what the key was..."

"Victoria! That's-" Abruptly, his brow was furrowed again. "Wait. Is the Key 541169?"

Victoria blinked. "Uh... Yes."

"I knew it!", he rejoiced quietly, throwing his fist into the air. Then he suddenly appeared to remember that he'd been about to say something entirely different, gasped and adopted a reproachful posture again. His vain attempts to appear strict were cute somehow, nearly made her smirk... if it wasn't for the circumstances. "Victoria, what you're doing is cheating!"

She bit her lip and sighed then. "Oh, I know, you're right... I just... I had no other choice! The others were right in saying that I am not suitable for being a Kingsman, not in the shape I am now. I'm weak, I'm untrained. That desperately needs to change if I don't want to be the first one to be forced to go and you know that." Feeling determination rise within her once again, she let go of the nervous attitude, straightened and looked Alasdair right into the eyes. "It may be cheating, but it's not like I'm stealing the answer sheet for a test. No, I'm actually training hard, while you others can slumber peacefully. I'm not choosing the easy way here, definitely not."

With every word she felt more and more confident of her actions, as if talking about them persuaded herself of their rightness... And it was. What she did _was_ the right thing to do! He masked it with a worried expression, looking her up and down every now and then, though, even in Alasdair's eyes Victoria now spotted a glimmer of admiration.

"Alright...", he breathed ultimately. "I understand your motives, probably more than anyone else here. And don't worry, I won't break your secret, as long as you stop cheating. Now come, we should get back to the dormitory." There he already turned to go, but Victoria quickly got hold of his wrist, entangling him back to conversation.

"No, Alasdair, I can't stop now! I'm finally making progress!"

"But, Victoria, it's wrong!"

"Says who?"

The question dumbfounded him visibly. Blinking, the lanky boy took a step back, then he directed his look to the ground, until, suddenly, defiance seized his features, which, on the other hand, dumbfounded Victoria, since she had absolutely no idea where that sensation might stem from. In the end, Alsdair went back to blinking and shook his head as if trying to get rid of one particular thought.

"Fine.", he mumbled, turning to go. "Do what you want."

"You're not telling anybody, do you?"

A one-sided smile appeared on his thin lips. "I may be a manipulative rascal but I'm not a snitch."

"Good... thank you..."

Watching him tip-toeing towards the dormitory - slowly... painfully slowly... - she recalled their conversation, scanned it for any signs of him being dishonest concerning snitching on her. She actually trusted him anyway, but-

No, she didn't _actually_ trust him. She _really_ trusted Alasdair. He wouldn't break her secret, wouldn't get her into trouble. He was her friend after all, wasn't he?

All of a sudden, a thought struck her and before Victoria knew what was happening, her legs got under way and she grabbed the blond one's arm. "Alasdair, wait!" A wide smile spread over her face when enthusiasm rushed through her like a river, not giving her any chance to rethink sharing her idea, however, she wouldn't have to anyhow. It was a good idea, a great one! "You don't have to be manipulative!"

Confused, Alasdair inclined his head. "But... it's fun."

"No, I mean, you don't have to manipulate the others to beat them. Why don't you come with me? Let's train together!"

For a moment he remained puzzled, then his eyes widened in shock. "W-what?"

"Yes, I need somebody to train close-combat with. In the long term, fighting imaginary air-enemies is not as efficient as one might think."

Cautiously he slipped her grip, held his hands up in a defensive manner. "No, no, no! I-it'd b-be cheating! If we get caught, I get thrown out!"

With a sigh, Victoria's smile made way for an empathetic look. "Alasdair... you are indeed a genius when it comes to mathematics, physics, logic et cetera. You truly must have an IQ of about 140-"

"148. Please continue."

"- but you're quite a lemon when it comes to physical strain." He pouted, which Victoria ignored. "You do give your best, but apparently that's not enough. If you don't catch up with the others you'll be thrown out anyway. Sooner or later it_ will _happen..." She took a step forward, gently put her hand on his shoulder. "Unless, you do something about it. I'm not trying to foist anything on you. What I do want you to do is to think outside the box and not only realise the risks of this additional training, but also its benefits."

Again, silence gained the upper hand between the two.

Alasdair didn't say a word, simply stared to the ground with a blank expression.

Just as the need to speak rose to an almost unbearable level within Victoria, he whispered: "Can we..." It seemed like he was trying to fight a smirk for a second, but, eventually, he gave in to it, letting it light up his features. "Can we train how to make Edmund cry?"

In an instant, Victoria beamed as well.

She didn't know exactly why - after all, she'd done perfectly on her own the entire time - but what happened right now gave her the feeling of an enormous weight falling off her shoulders. No, not falling off. It felt like she shared that weight now. She wasn't alone anymore.

"Okay, okay!", she began, struggling to maintain the low tone as joy ran all over her, making her fingertips tingle. "Like you said, we have to be true ninjas to get to the sports hall unseen. I already found the perfect way where we can dodge any security cameras, so you just have to follow me." She turned to go, but Alasdair held her back.

"Wait, I need something from the dormitory!"

"You can train in your pyjamas for now, noone's judging you."

"No, something else. Just go ahead, I'll come right after you.", he whispered and then, before she could stop him, he was already gone, making her curse under her breath.

It was far too high of a risk to go back now... Whatever it was Alasdair needed to get, it better be worth it.

After all that happened the last quarter-hour, it then felt like an eternity to wait in the sports hall for Alasdair, her pratner in crime. She almost had to laugh out loud when thinking those words, though, in that exactly moment she pricked up her ears as an almost non-palpable clicking noise reached her.

The door.

Instinctively, she pressed against the wall next to it, however, her body relaxed, when blond hair flashed up in the dark around.

"So.", she said, making the boy jump. He apparently hadn't noticed her standing there.

Victoria eyed him, cocked a brow as she found him holding his walkman in his hands. "You want to tell me that audiobooks were indispensable for our training?"

He just grinned at her, took her hand and passed the device to her. Cautiously putting the headphones on, he whispered: "You can have it the first few rounds. A little 'Thank you' for taking me under your wing."

And then he pressed the play button.

Instead of some voice reading of a book, a continuously stopping sound of an electring guitar created a joyful rhythm in her ears now, nearly resembling her own heartbeat. Taken aback, she looked up at Alasdair, who just winked at her and, looking all happy, he began to run.

Victoria looked after him, a wide smile slowly seizing her features.

"What I've got's full stock of thoughts and dreams that scatter...", she mouthed the lyrics of the song and then began to run herself.

* * *

_**Author's Note:** If any of you didn't recognise the song, it's _You Make My Dreams_ by Hall &amp; Oates. It's an hommage to the _Eddie The Eagle_ Movie. Seriously guys, if you haven't seen that film and still have the chance to so DO IT! It's such a good movie on so many levels, cinematography, music, acting, SOOOOO GREAT!_


	20. A Kingsman Family

**_Author's Note: IIIII PASSED ALL MY EXAMS :D To mark the occasion here an extra long chap ^^ I'll probably be able to update more regularly now since the next semester only starts in October :)_**

**_So now enjoy, Ladies and Gentlemen, and please review! :D_**

* * *

**A Kingsman Family**

_From the top of a 45 m high tower you spot your target subject (T) through your sniper scope at a -vertical angle of 27,55°. When horizontally swivelling the rifle 112,18°, you see the destination (D) your target is heading for at a -v. angle of 34,81°. What is the distance between T and D and how much time would you have to eliminate T before he reaches D given that T runs at a speed of 14 mph?_

_a) 349,67m, 20s b) 125,88 m, 20 s c) 349,67 ..._

If her individual body parts were actual people, her eyes would hurl some insults at her brain now, since that irrespectively left the former behind. The problem's solution already unfolded inside Victoria's mind without having to read to the end of the paragraph, making her fingertips tingle in anticipation as she wrote it down.

Others, it appeared, were not that successful. Nick, she noticed from the corner of her right eye, visibly despaired of this exam. One could almost see billows of smoke rise from his head from all those gearwheels working hard in there, as he was holding it with both of his hands, constantly switching between staring at his question booklet and at Merlin, who was watching everyone closely from his table at the back of the room.

In marked contrast to that, there was Alasdair seated to her left. Having his tongue sticking out, he scribbled away like there was no tomorrow... even though the answer sheet to his right was already filled out.

Victoria frowned. Alasdair seemed finished with his test. Why was he so busy writing then?

There he froze, lifted his head when he finally realised her watching him.

For a long moment they just stared at each other. Then a smirk spread on both of their faces. Abruptly, Victoria collected her own now completed answer sheet and all the other pieces of paper over her small desk, as did Alasdair, and, simultaneously, they stood up. It probably looked ridiculous how stiffly they both hurried forward to Merlin's desk, both trying to outrun the other without actually involving running, but Victoria didn't really care. This was about honour, after all.

She was just about to present Merlin with her exam papers, just about to finally win one of their little races of who officially finishes these tests first, when Alasdair carried out one extra big step in front of her, almost making her face collide with his shoulder, and put his own papers down on their instructor's big mahogany table. However, one moment afterwards, he took them away again and cleared some space for her, an innocent expression on his face. "Oh, pardon, ladies first, of course."

The glare Victoria punished him with probably lost intensity due to the grin it was accompanied by. With her head held high she handed her test to Merlin who was looking at them over the rim of his glasses, seemingly close to sighing a "Really?"

"Wait outside.", was what he actually said after Alasdair had followed her suit and they complied with his command. It was really difficult to not burst into laughter, though.

To not disturb her collegues any further, Victoria closed the door behind them cautiously, while Alasdair took a few steps away from it, unfolding a piece of paper he'd pocketed right before their 'race'.

"I've been thinking.", he began in the low voice she was already used to hear from him, showing her whatever he'd been scribbling down so eagerly before. It looked like a time table, like the ones they'd had in school. "We can optimise our training by dividing our sessions into two parts: The first one stays quite the same, running, strength exercises and all that, and for the second we focus on our already marked strong points in close combat. You focus on your observation skills, obviously. They're very helpful when it comes to finding weak spots in someone's defence or whatever, just_ use _and improve them."

The rapidity he pattered, not pausing for breathing once, conjured another smile to Victoria's lips. "And you'll focus on-" The second her pricked up ears sensed someone opening the door they'd just come through, she fluently changed the topic. "- getting your answers correct on the answer sheet, since otherwise it is counted as incorrect, even though you might have it right in your notes."

Both glanced at Albert as he closed the door just as quietly has Victoria before him.

"Exactly.", Alasdair joined in a totally natural manner. He too would make a pretty good actor, Victoria presumed. "That's why I didn't bother making notes at all and simply filled in the answer sheet."

Albert didn't pay them any attention, just strolled past them toward the window at the end of the corridor. Out of earshot.

"I'm not sure what I should focus on in our-", Alasdair tried to take up the thread, but Victoria cut in.

"You really did that?"

"Hm?"

"Fill in the answers without taking notes."

"Uh... yes. Mostly."

"But how do you know your answers are correct? This is advanced maths, you can't possibly have worked those problems out in your head only."

Alasdair smirked at her, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses. "Then I'm making the impossible possible." His face switched to a more thoughtful expression and he looked away. "Who said that? It sounds like a very famous quote, doesn't it? Martin Luther King maybe?"

"To me it sounds more like something a cartoon or comic book character would say."

For a long moment Victoria assumed he was still pondering over the source of this phrase. Then he began losing colour, his face not being able to be interpreted as thoughtful anymore, but rather shocked. Victoria frowned, looked the direction he was gazing.

Albert stood there by the window, his brow furrowed as he kept eye contact with Alasdair. He broke it eventually to look out the window, then, again, to Alasdair. Confusion rose within Victoria. Had she missed out on anything?

"Batman." Alasdair's voice almost made her jump.

Victoria turned to him. Although he was still slightly pale, he didn't look as aghast as before anymore.

"Pardon?", she said, not understanding.

"Batman. Both comic _and_ cartoon character when speaking of The Animated Series. You think it was _him_ that quote is from?"

Victoria blinked, absolutely dumbfounded. "I... uh... I don't know. I'm not that into cartoons. Or comics."

A smile seized Alasdair's features, though, it didn't quite manage to light up his face as it usually did. As if there was some kind of grey veil clouding it. "You should. Comics are great. I can lend you some if you want. I have quite a large collection of Marvel comics and DC's. My favourite's Batman, since he's got the greatest villains and those-"

He was cut off when the door to the classroom opened again, but this time both of the tall folding doors swung open, letting the remaining candidates stream out into the corridor. The exam must have come to its end. Some of the young men looked confident, some devestated. They were followed by Merlin, carrying a stack of paper in his arms and already motioning them with a nod to follow him to their close combat training.

Victoria hesitated to do so, just gave Alasdair a questioning look, awaiting explantations for his odd behaviour, but she was only greeted with another smile, before the lanky boy got going himself.

* * *

They sat on the floor, staring at each other. Noone dared to blink. Their expressions were completely blank, until the corners of Victoria's mouth twitched in anticipation. "Piano."

Alasdair's brows shot up and he smiled widely. "How do you know?!"

"Magic.", she just told him with a smirk. Then with her chin she pointed at the hands in his lap. "No, you just have typical piano hands. Long, slender fingers, slightly wider knuckles, kind of a slant on your fingertips. Besides, it's very common for people of our status to play the piano."

"The things you catch in five little seconds!", he laughed, shaking his head. "This would make a great party trick!"

"It does. I once won a round of thousand-pounds-champagne for my friends in a club in Berlin for guessing that the barkeeper was a drummer. He pointed at me and screamed: 'WEETCH!'."

They had to curb their laughter, grinning and shaking without letting any actual sounds escape their throats, which made it even funnier. When they calmed down, Alasdair took a sip from his water bottle. Him staring into the darkness reminded her of what she had wanted to ask him, but had forgotten til now.

"Tell me, why did Abert give you that odd look today?"

Even in the dark Victoria noticed Alasdair's skin growing a shade paler than it already was anyway. "Why? I don't know. He's always giving people odd looks, doesn't he? He's just a robot-like, arrogant egg with a stick up his-"

"Alasdair.", she interrupted him as concern spread within her. "Is it possible that he knows something about our training? Did you let anything slip? Unintentionally, of course, but still?"

He frowned, rounding his lips as if being about to say something like "What?!", though, before he could utter one word, Victoria made him hush by raising her hand.

There's been a noise, too quiet to perceive by 'average' ears, but her hearing wasn't average, which was why she stopped breathing now, concentrated...

There. Steps.

The way Alasdair shot the sports hall's entrance door a shocked glance told her that he'd heard it too. Panic crept into her bones, her pulse rate peaked and thoughts of the worst case scenario occupied her mind: Merlin entering the sports hall, Merlin catching them, Merlin kicking them out of Kingsman... Victoria didn't want this to happen. It _must not _happen.

Reflexively, she hurried over to the door in such a light footed manner that it produced almost no sound at all, and pressed her back against the wall next to it. Alasdair followed suit. They didn't dare to move, didn't risk causing any noises.

Maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't be seen that way if whoever it was actually entered the sports hall. And maybe, just maybe, Victoria's dream of becoming a Kingsman was not going to be terminated tonight.

Standing there and breathing as shallow as possible, she pricked her ears.

Along with the steps two voices reached her now. As they got closer, she recognised one as Merlin's, the other one was unknown to her. It was not exactly a deep voice, but it was low pitched enough to bear a certain authority. It also had this slight croak Victoria knew was implying that the man it belonged to was used to wielding said authority.

At first both voices were too muffled to understand anything, but then more and more sounds formed into sense-making words.

"... not too surprised by the outcome.", the man Victoria didn't know said in quite a monotonous way, as if he wouldn't actually care. "After all Kingsman never sheltered that sort of candidate before, at least not that I could recall."

'_That sort of candidate_'. They were talking about her. And as bored as this man sounded he wasn't impressed by her . Even though Victoria had no clue who he was, he annoyed her.

"Alasdair is not in top form, admittedly-" Oh. Not about her, after all. "-but he's improving." As impassionate as Merlin sounded to her sometimes during their training, now, that he had this aloof stranger as counterpart, his tone had an almost emotional ring to it. "However, I don't think that his physical condition is the problem. The problem is his attitude towards the other candidates. Even though, he_ is_ kind of bonding with individuals, he doesn't seem to be much of a team player and you know how important that is."

Victoria suppressed the urge to shift in discomfort. It was awkward to hear people talk about her friend's weaknesses while having him right next to her, especially since those people were their instructor and, probably, the Kingsman who had proposed Alasdair as his candidate. It must be downright humiliating for him, discouraging... From the corner of her eye she saw him standing all stiff, even paler than before. Victoria'd never felt more sympathy for him.

"I told you he's not an extrovert, even though he would like to be. He's a dreamer with absolutely unrealistic expectations to himself, like miraculously adopting the most difficult skills."

"Don't you think you're a bit harsh there?"

"What do you mean?"

"He's your son."

"Exactly. That's why I know all these things in the first place. I know him best."

'_Son_'. The man kept talking, but Victoria didn't really listen anymore. She couldn't, was too shocked to think straight. Her mind was occupied by only that single one of the words spoken, made her brows furrow and her eyes widen.

Horace Whitehall... The man talking to Merlin was... one of her mother's business partners... Horace... Whitehall... a Kingsman...

Slowly, very slowly, she turned her head. She didn't know what she was hoping to see in Alasdair's face, maybe confusion or indignation, _some_ sign that she'd misheard, but no such thing. He was just squeezing his lids together, as if he wanted to hidd from her gaze, as if he was embarrassed... His reaction only fueled the disappointment and anger that rose within her now.

She didn't even know exactly why she felt that way. It just felt like... betrayal, yes, Alasdair had betrayed her! Or rather he'd _tricked_ her. He'd tricked her into believing that they were in the same boat, that he had had to fight for being here too, that she wasn't alone... But no, it was nepotism that had brought him here. Plain, despicable nepotism.

She felt like a fool, wanted to yell at her so-called friend, but for the time being she kept silent, swallowed her anger and concentrated on her now slightly heavier breathing and the two men outside.

With every step they took, their voices got more and more quiet, until, eventually, they faded away completely. Still, Victoria didn't move, signalled Alasdair to do the same, while she counted down from 60. When there was still no noise as she reached 0, Victoria stepped away from the wall and took a deep breath.

"Alright. They're gone.", she whispered. "Still we should proceed with caution in case they come back."

Alasdair nodded, then opened his eyes to look at her. A moment of silence passed, before Victoria crossed her arms in front of her chest and raised a brow.

"Well, I guess the mystery of how _you_ got here is finally solved.", she said grimly. Her lips pressed into a straight line, she walked past him, heading for the punch bag she was so in need of training on right now, but suddenly Alasdair grabbed her wrist.

"No. No!", he hissed, wearing the most upset expression she'd ever seen on him. "Don't you dare alleging that I'm only here because of my father!"

With one quick motion of her elbow upwards she freed herself from his grip and mirrored his irritation. "Oh, come on, you can't expect me to believe that you weren't proposed by him!"

"He did, but it certainly wasn't easy to make him do so. I had to _fight_ for being here!"

"Oh, really? Have you been beaten up to a pulp by some terrorists? Because that's how I had to fight for being here and it's not even _half_ the story!"

For a few seconds Alasdair kept glaring at her. Then, he blinked, his anger visibly shifting to confusion. "W-What?"

Once again, Victoria folded her arms across her chest, let out a deep sigh. "Well, I guess, since your secret has been given away so bluntly, it's only fair for you to know about mine."

It was difficult. Victoria knew the words wouldn't pass her lips if she told the story in all its bearings, so she rather stuck to the briefest version she could think of, simply worked through the bullet points - boyfriend 'sold' her to irish terrorists; Kingsman frustrated their plans and got her out of there; she assisted him in doing so; ended up in hospital; found him after months of searching; persuaded him to propose her as candidate and, ta-dah, here she was. It sounded like no big deal that way, so simple, so... unspectacular. It almost made her regret her decision to tell it that way, if it wasn't for the fact that it _did_ help to avoid getting too emotional now... At least her. Alasdair, on the other hand, looked utterly shocked.

"I have only two things to say.", he finally managed to bring forth after a long pause consisting of endless staring. "First of all... Please, tell me this knob head of a boyfriend is currently rotting in prison."

Letting a small smirk brighten up her features, Victoria replied: "Unfortunately, the police wasn't able to catch him, as he presumably left the UK. He's on Interpol's wanted list, though."

Alasdair nodded, but, judging from his grimace, her answer didn't please him. Rightly so. "Secondly..." He looked at her. Something flashed up in his eyes, something like... admiration? "How in heaven's name did you manage to track down a Kingsman? They are super-trained spies and you are... well, not so much. No offense."

"I just did what you keep telling me to do: Make use of my observation skills."

He smiled at her, she smiled back. The anger she'd felt before only lingered in the back of her mind. But her confusion about him stayed. She still needed answers. "Now you."

Bit by bit Alasdair's smile fell. Then he closed his eyes, rubbed the ridge of his nose and sighed. "Alright." He straightened, looked at her again. "Before I tell you, you have to know that... my father and I never had the best relationship. Actually, now that I think about it, we never formed any kind of relationship at all. What else, he's never been there, more so after my mother died when I was nine. I barely got to talk to him and when I did it was like doing smalltalk to some stranger in an ante room you accidently caught eye contact with: a forced conversation, whose end you're practically longing for.

"Even though he always treated me with indifference more or less, I always wondered where he actually disappeared to all these times. He didn't tell me a thing about it and his company didn't know about any business trips either. So, when I was fourteen, I decided to play Sherlock Holmes and there I came across his actual profession. Man, you can't imagine how furious he was, when he found out! He's actually very stoic, but back then... Wow, I have to say I almost peed myself!" He laughed. It was not a happy laugh. "Anyway, as much as he wanted me to forget about everything I, I kind of... grew obsessed with the idea of being a secret agent. I mean... for all those years I've considered my father one of the most boring people in existence and he'd considered myself as a 'dreamer', as he'd like to call me, and then I find out that he's been some sort of James Bond all the way? It was... fascinating! It was... It felt like we finally had something in common, you know? Not that I had any interesting secret identity, no, it's just that... I've always wanted more than take over my father's company some day. I wanted to be an adventurer, someone... _special_! Someone like a Kingsman. You know, you grow up devouring all those stories of people like... Alexander the Great or... Columbus or... Indiana Jones! And now you get the chance to become someone special yourself... A dream come true.

"So, after some time had passed, I approached my father to tell him that I want to be a Kingsman too, that I want to be like him." Frowning, he stared holes into space, as if watching his memories there like a movie. When he looked up into Victoria's face again, a smile had occupied his lips, though, it expressed nothing but bitterness. "I will never forget his face that moment. He didn't look angry. He didn't look concerned... He looked confused. Genuinely taken aback. And as if it was as clear as glass he said: 'You are not a Kingsman, Alasdair.' And so I gave up hoping and just kept dreaming."

Victoria lightly rubbed her chest, where it felt like compassion hit her the most, and looked down. She just couldn't look Alasdair in the eye right now. How angry she'd been at him before, how she'd behaved towards him... She felt like such a fool now.

"Anyway,", Alasdair continued, eventually making her look at him after all. Not least because the sadness had left his tone again. "years later, a bit less than a month ago to be precisely, I overheard in one of his conversations that there's a vacant post at Kingsman. I sniffed a second chance. Gosh, was I excited! I've been working hard to earn his respect the last years... Not on purpose, of course, I don't care about his opinion... Still I... I thought now that I'm an adult and a highly intelligent one too he'd propose me as his candidate on his own. I mean, come on, I'm his _son_! Shouldn't it be natural to think about me first? Well, turns out my father doesn't give a fuck about natural! When I finally gathered all my courage to confront him with it and to... convey my interest in the post, he told me that he already found someone... suitable. He didn't even consider me! Apparently, in his eyes, I'm not at all suitable! I was so... It felt like a slap to my face, you know? As if being back-stabbed or something..."

"Perhaps, he's just worried and doesn't want to expose you to danger. Being a Kingsman is probably one of the most dangerous professions in the world, and he knows that first hand."

There was no happiness in the laugh Alasdair let out now, shaking his head. "No. He doesn't care about me. Never did. To him I'm just... a backup, solely conceived to maintain the family name and see about the company he himself is too 'above' to see about! Of course he is, I mean, who would trade a James-Bond-like adventure with boring meetings, meetings I am practically forced to attend every now and then, because, hey, I haven't got anything better to do, have I?!

"He was really irritated when I kept insisting on him proposing me as his candidate, even though I should have been irritated by this... this insolence of his, this..._ betrayal_! And I was, you bet, I was furious. But I knew I had to pretend calm, act rational, like an adult, since he wouldn't listen to me otherwise. I was determined to become his candidate and I wouldn't let an emotional outburst keep me off that.

"And so it went on and on for hours. Me reasoning, him declining and getting more and more upset, while I stay composed. Just like _he_ taught me. 'Keep a stiff upper lip, Alasdair', he'd told me so many times. And I did, acted like the perfect gentleman... like a Kingsman."

"And it worked." She didn't put it as a question. She already knew the answer, since if it hadn't worked he wouldn't be here with her now.

Alasdair confirmed her assumption with a nod. "I don't know if he did it simply out of annoyance, you know, to get rid of me, but eventually he agreed. He proposed me as his candidate. Not without telling me that I shouldn't raise any hopes to win, but still... I'm here."

Victoria nodded, gazing in abstraction. "May I ask two questions as well?", she spoke up after a long pause of mulling over what he'd said.

"Go ahead."

"Alright... So, if your father never trained you... why are you such a fiend in shooting then?"

"Well... Like I said I kept dreaming for quite a while. And part of that was secretly getting my gun licence and aquire a good knowledge about shooting over some years."

"Your father didn't know about that?"

"He still doesn't know."

"Okay... Second question: Why do you want to become a Kingsman?"

At that Alasdair seemed taken aback.

He didn't respond any further so Victoria explained: "I just want to make sure that you're not going through all this for the wrong reasons."

"Namely?"

"... Proving your father wrong. For that you shouldn't have to trudge through the 'most dangerous job interview in the world'." She laughed shortly- oh, her Merlin imitations got better and better! - but Alasdair didn't, so she dismissed it as a cough. "He is your father. He should love you the way you are."

"I'm not here for _him_.", Alasdair clarified sternly. "I try to become a Kingsman because it's what I want to be. Being a spy was my dreamjob since I was fourteen and Kingsman... Due to its independence it's the best organisation to be that for . I mean, all our lives we as part of high society have been sent to the most elitist schools, the most elitist universities... So why stop here and become an MI6 agent or something like that when Kingsmen are the actual elite?"

The wide smile he wore on his face was captivating. Victoria didn't know if she would be able to smile if she'd been treated like that by her own parents her entire life. But he did. Alasdair did smile. For that and for the fact that he still managed to be the funniest, quirkiest and most brilliant boy she ever met she admired him.

"Well, if we want to be part of the elite we should continue training, especially since we only have half an hour left for tonight.", she eventually said, trying to put an end to Alasdair's suffering that telling his story surely included.

It apparently worked, since he began to beam and already got into position for their close combat training. Victoria gave herself one more moment to examine him, her brilliant friend... who didn't realise how much he lied to himself.

Of course, he was here for his father. The way he'd talked about him... It had made it crystal clear for her how much he desired to show his father what he was capable of, to gain his attention. Though, what he didn't take into account was that if he actually emerged the winner of this contest, he would not only make his father proud of him, he would make him his collegue. He would have to go on missions with him. He would have to prove himself to him over and over again. Every day. His entire life... If he didn't do that already anyway.

Suppressing all these negative emotions rising within her at this thought, she forced a smile to her face and got into position as well.


	21. The Game is On

**_Author's Note: Heya :D Shorter chap this time, buuut next one will be longer again. Plus... _someone_ *very conspicuous wink* is going to make another appearance ^^_**

_**So enjoy, Ladies and Gentlemen, and please review! (Your reviews are actually the main source for motivation for me so thaaaank you for every single one I received in the past and will receive in the future :) ... ugh, getting too emotional here. Better watch the church scene to get all funny and weird again :D)**_

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**The Game is On**

Today was the day. They didn't explicitly say so, but Victoria knew it was. A casual close combat Fighting Contest? Certainly not. After seven weeks she'd already been in training, their instructors were finally starting to sort out, to narrow down the choices for the new Kingsman, and she would definitely not let herself be the first one to leave.

How they all lined up in the sports hall, standing at attention while Mr Walters was speaking, was normal, the palpable tension in the air was not.

"The one that brings his, or her, opponent to the ground wins the round. 2 out of 3 won rounds equal one won fight, obviously. The one with the most won fights wins. We'll start alphabetical order." He glanced at the list on his clipboard. "So let's begin with... Albert Camden and Victoria Davies-Norwood. Go and put your gloves on."

Even though they were trying hard to conceal it, Victoria could see the glee in some of the boy's faces. In Alasdair's there was concern. Albert's expression was as stony as ever.

Victoria ignored all of it.

This was her chance to prove that she was indeed suitable for being a Kingsman. She had already surpassed all expectations in the theoretical part of their training - she'd made 97%, just like Albert. Only Alasdair, with his impossible 100%, had achieved a better result than them - and now she had to do the same with the practical one. Now sacrificing her sleep would finally pay off... with a bit of luck, though.

If she could have chosen her first opponent, it certainly wouldn't have been Albert. He was one of the best fighters of this group after all, always highly concentrated, always fighting in this cool manner of his that allowed him to keep a level head, stay in control of every single motion of his body... Still Victoria wouldn't let him intimidate her.

As she and the dark-haired boy put on the sparring gloves from the equipment table Mr Walters had prepared for the candidates, she quickly remembered her training with Alasdair. Parry, hit, kick... Duck, hit... Duck, kick, kick, yes that was a good one... Parry, kick-

"You seem nervous.", Albert next to her interrupted her thoughts in his usual monotonous voice.

Victoria didn't even glance at him. Of course, he deemed her nervous. Everybody must seem agitated in his aloof eyes.

"Don't worry,", he continued to Victoria's dismay. Since when did he actually talk so much to her?

"I'm not a brute like Edmund. I will make it quick."

At that Victoria arched a brow. "Not if I beat you to it."

Albert laughed. Victoria froze, looked at him with slightly widened eyes.

Albert normally didn't laugh, he never did, at least not in her presence. Alasdair once even suspected him of having some medical condition that prevented him from doing so. Of course, he had just been joking but it _could_ be true, since the dark-haired boy had really never laughed. And yet he did now. It was just a short, quiet laugh he let out here but still... It almost made her hair stand on end. Apparently, the prospect of her beating him in close combat was truly amusing him.

Still having an indication of a smug smile on his face he looked at her. "Good luck.", was what he said. 'You wish.', was what he meant. Then his face went as blank as usual again and he walked back to Mr Walters. Victoria kept tugging on her gloves, allowed herself another moment to calm down. The neutral mask she was wearing hopefully hid how much she was fuming inside.

She should be able to ignore the venoms of any of her fellow candidates by now, and she actually did... but not yet with Albert. She wasn't used to be ridiculed by him. He did show his disapproval of her being here and a general aversion towards her with his eyes and gestures, but he usually kept any negative remarks to himself. Or at least he only let them loose when he thought she couldn't hear him. And now he was throwing his mockings right into her face. Suddenly, the chance to punch him became even more attractive to her.

More or less calm, she eventually followed him back to their instructor.

Stretching their limbs, they listened to Mr Walter. "Remember: Your goal is to bring your opponent to the ground. Nothing more."

While he spoke, Victoria let her gaze wander over her 'collegues's gleeful expressions once again. She exchanged a look with Alasdair, who looked quite stern now, determined even. He gave her an subtle nod. He knew what she was capable of. He believed in her. The only one who did except herself.

"As soon as the other is down, you back off. No more fighting. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir.", the two said with one voice.

"Alright. Get into position. On my mark."

Just like she had done it in so many training sessions - both the regular and the one's with Alasdair - she adopted a solid posture, her stronger leg slightly forward, arms tense but not raised. Albert made a little less effort, visibly positive about his victory. His hands were leizurely at his sides, though, noticing how the bones at the back of them protruded a little, Victoria knew he contracted the muscles in them, especially in the right one. He was going to hit her with that hand. His legs were in the wrong position for it, hinting at a punch from the other side, however, the muscles in his thighs were twitching, scarcely perceptibly but still, implying that Albert was planning on changing their position. A feint after all.

Ending her observations, Victoria fixed her eyes on her opponent's. He looked so calm, so prepared to win.

'_You wish_.'

"... Go!"

Albert's right palm shot up lightning fast, Victoria's pushed his forearm aside even faster, she added the left to it and that was it. His right arm was pressed against his body, so that he wouldn't even be able to strike her with his other one from such a distance. A classic trap.

The moment that followed was just as short as the action preceding it, but for Victoria it felt like an eternity, where, finally, after all this time, _she_ could be the one gloating, gloating over the confused expression on Albert's face. Glorious.

Victoria shifted her weight and threw a spinning hook kick to Albert's head. It wasn't a perfect kick. A perfect kick would have knocked him out completely, which it didn't, but for now what mattered was that it sent him to the ground.

The bang of his impact with the workout mat resounded in her ears, particularly since silence prevailed around her, as she just indulged in looking down to her beaten opponent. Eyes widened, mouth slightly agape, he lay there on his side, holding his head where her foot had hit it... and visibly regretting underestimating her.

A short snort cut through the silence. It was Alasdair, desperately trying to sustain his laughter, which made it unexpectedly difficult for Victoria to not burst out laughing herself, especially when she took in the confused, awed, surprised and downright shocked faces of the others next to him. It gave her the most amazing feeling of satisfaction and, astonishingly, also relief. As determined as she'd been, she knew that even in _her_ there had been doubts and the fear of losing once again.

But she made it. She made it at first try. It was just one little fight, but it was clear that it would change everything from now.

"Very good!", Mr Walters expressed his own bafflement in a cheerful tone. "1 to 0 for Victoria!" There was also a bit of proudness in his voice that certainly derived from his assumption that _his_ training boosted Victoria's fighting skills to this whole new level and she was glad he thought so instead of growing suspicious. The fact is that she probably wouldn't have been able to win any round here without her secret training with Alasdair after all.

Naturally, even _that_ wasn't enough to make her such an exceptional fighter to win all the rounds in this competition, but eventually, after 2 hours of throwing punches and kicks and parrying and simply _everything_ she could find in her close combat repertoire, the ranking list Mr Walters read out to them made her and Alasdair beam at each other:

1\. Albert

2\. Hugo

3\. Alexander

4\. Edmund

5\. Nicholas

6\. William/ Victoria / Alasdair

7\. Godfrey

She was not the last one. After weeks of being told to not be suitable for this kind of job, she was not the last one in this fighting contest, had beaten out somebody of the very same opinion about her. And she lay level with Bill, a sturdy, athletic young man, too! He had won more rounds - 9 out of 24 compared to her and Alasdair's 7 - but all three had won 2 _fights_, so, yes, Victoria counted them as fairly equal.

Indeed, she still needed to work on her close combat skills, definitely, but she'd been aware of that beforehand anyway. Besides, if she could achieve such remarkable improvement in only seven weeks, what would she be capable of in another month? Or in two? Oh yes, she could feel it. She would climb that ranking, beat out more and more of the other candidates until-

A tap on her shoulder let her turn around. It was Albert who stood there, his head held high and wearing his usual neutral face. From the corner of her eye Victoria noticed Alasdair tense up and narrow his eyes to slits. She herself stayed calm. Albert wasn't the type for revenge. At least she thought so.

"Yes?", she asked with a syrupy voice, crossing her arms.

Albert straightened even further - how that was actually possible would probably remain a mystery to her - and took a deep breath. "I just wanted to tell you that I underestimated you."

Victoria smirked. "Obviously. But clearly you have learnt your lesson, so... apology accepted."

At that he raised a brow. "This is not an apology. This is a warning." He stepped a little closer to speak in a low voice. "I will not do that mistake again, underestimate you. From now on I expect you to perform at the highest level, in every contest, in every training. The moment you perform less... I will strike."

Now with a stern expression on her face as well, Victoria held his gaze. "Same here with you."

They kept staring at each other. Then Albert raised his hand, held it out to her in the little space between them. "I'm looking forward to it."

Without taking her eyes from his she shook it once. Eventually breaking eye contact, he spun on his heel and followed the others who were already on their way to the dormitory.

"The heck was that all about?", she heard Alasdair say next to her as she still looked after the dark-haired boy.

"You should be glad about it. It's actually a compliment. They finally stopped ignoring us and began seeing us as the threat we are to them."

A smile spread over the blond boy's face, conjuring one to her own, as he looked towards the other candidates. "The game is on, pillocks."


	22. Field Trials

**_Author's Note: Heeeere another long chap for you and as promised _someone_ is making an appearance in it again :D Two things: 1. What inspired me the most for the first paragraph here was the track 'To Be A Kingsman' of the Kingsman soundtrack and since I've listened to it during writing it also determined this scene's pace to some extent. So if you want the full experience here I recommend to listen to it as well :P_**

**_2\. I just want to inform you that it might take a while for me to update in the next 3 weeks since I'm going on sort of an adventure trip to Norway :) I will have enough time to write there, but I'm not sure if my phone is going to work the way I want it to. _**

_**I want to thank you all so much for being patient with me and still read this story even though it's proceeding a little slower than I planned :/ THANK YOU**_

_**And now enjoy, Ladies and Gentlemen, and please REVIEW! :) **_

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**Field Trials**

The six dots - four blue and three red ones - wandered over the digital map so slowly, one might get the impression they were not moving at all. But, of course, Galahad knew better. He's been there too once, fighting his way through 'enemy territory' while his mentor had watched this map or rather a similar one, wondering which of the dots his mentee was representing. Good grief, that seemed ages ago! So much had happened in between. _He_'d become a mentor and at this point he had absolutely no idea how he was doing as such. And that made him slightly nervous.

Naturally, he didn't show any of it, just like his collegues who had assembled here in this dark room of Kingsman mansion to finally, after five agonising months of hearing nothing, get an insight in their protégés' progress.

Merlin had always liked to keep the candidate's development a secret for a while and that was why he was visibly having fun now, simply shaking his head with the indication of a smirk on his lips whenever a Kingsman tried to worm some details out of him. He wouldn't cave in, Galahad knew that all too well, which was why he didn't even risk an attempt... although he was itching to ask how Victoria was doing.

What he _had_ been told was that she was still in training - of course, Merlin had informed the two Kingsmen whose mentees hadn't made it to the top seven - but that was about it. No doubt, she was among the best concerning the theoretical part of the training with her sagacity, but what about the rest? Had she proven her assertion that 'handling weapons and physical abilities can be learnt and developed'? Was ambition and a strong will really enough? Perhaps she _had_ extended her physical fitness to quite a considerable level, but was not that much of a good shot. Or perhaps it was the other way round. Or she was not particularly good in any of these fields, or she _was_ and was representing one of the three red dots, was part of the winning team.

"You're so quiet." Merlin stepped up beside him, distracting Galahad's attention away from the map. "Anything wrong?"

"Jetlag.", he explained. With a nod he pointed to Lancelot on the other side of the room, who was, as was so often the case, joking around, making his bystanding collegues chuckle. "Lancelot does not seem too concerned about his candidate's performance."

Merlin glanced over his shoulder. "He _does_ seem confident." Over the rim of his glasses he gave Galahad a curious look. "Are you not?"

He hesitated with his answer. "I rather not make any speculations.", he eventually said.

"Well," Merlin looked past Galahad. "seems like you won't have to any more."

Galahad turned his head and just as he realised that the three red dots were about to leave a dark spot representing a grove, Merlin, standing at the front windows now, raised his voice.

"Gentlemen." Any conversations were brought to an end, as the Kingsmen listened to him attentively. "Since the first three of your candidates, the winning team of today's field test, may arrive here any second now, I would ask you to concentrate your attention to the outside. Please, keep in mind that one test is, of course, not too representative for the entire development of your candidate. However, given that I know about their current skills, I have to admit that the outcome was definitely not surprising to me at all... Enjoy watching."

With that Galahad and the others approached the large windows at one side of the room, staring into the night. The grove lay right ahead of the mansion. The only thing seperating them was a large lawn cluttered with targets and various obstacles that were difficult to make out without nightscope. It was an advanced training ground for advanced trainees.

Galahad's nervousness rose to an irritating level.

What if Victoria was not advanced enough? If she was part of the losing team and maybe even the reason for their defeat? Five months was a fairly short time considering the range of skills she'd have had to develop therein.

His eyes caught movement between the trees, his ears far away shouting.

Did one of the voices really sound familiar or did he just imagine it in hopes Victoria would be part of the top three candidates? But perhaps she _was_, not necessarily in the front, but still. It was highly improbable indeed, but she _had_ surprised him in the past, so why not now too? Possibly she was among them. Hopefully she was among them. _Come on, be among them_...

And then all hell broke loose outside, when suddenly a dark haired girl in light military gear and a gun at the ready shot out of the grove, closely followed by a dark haired boy and a blond one. Bullet after bullet pierced through the several targets, as Victoria sprinted over the lawn without stopping once, jumped over hurdles, slid through under another and, gracefully, dodged any projectiles fired at her from the remote-controlled weapons all around.

"Albert, lift up!", she shouted.

The dark haired boy overtook her with a dive forwards, rolled over the ground and landed on his knees, his arms crossed, so that when Victoria stepped on them, he hurled her over the piece of wall in front of them. Even in the air she kept shooting and when she landed, she instantly ducked behind a heap of rubble to not get hit by the gun on the left.

"Left side!"

"On it!", Alasdair being hurled up as well responded and with one precise shot he disabled the weapon.

"Nice one!"

"Victoria, we have to draw the fire on us so that Alasdair can disconnect the door's safety system!", Albert, landing next to them, stated and a second after they were already carrying out his plan. They rushed over the lawn, each in an other direction, whilst the blond one stayed down, opened some small box and already began to type away on it.

"Easy peasy!", he laughed out loud when he'd finished his job considerably fast and together Team Red stormed into the mansion.

The whole show had lasted just a few moments and still it caused quite a stir among the Kingsmen in the dark room. Some cheered, some commented on it with a rather indignant tone, some talked insistently to Merlin. Galahad, on the other hand, confined himself to grinning. Grinning like a Cheshire cat.

* * *

They barged into the dormitory laughing so hard that Victoria had to cling to Alasdair's shoulder to not stumble and fall. Though, he wasn't much of a support, since the tears in his eyes and his own shaking body prevented him from walking a straight line either. Albert behind them had to stop and change his direction to not run into them from behind. With a loud sigh through his nose he showed off his annoyance with them. Victoria couldn't care less.

"I do not look like an Amazon!", she finally brought out, nudging Alasdair for the... Which time was it? She'd lost track with so many teasing remarks of his.

"I didn't say you look like one per se, but out there you just..." Like once before he pushed his jaw forward and wrinkled his brow, exaggeratedly mimicking the grim expression she'd appearantly worn during today's field test, and began hopping through the room, using his fingers as guns. "BOOM, BOOM, DIE, DIE, DIIIIIIE!"

With one hand clutching her already hurting stomach and one pressed against her mouth, Victoria tried to suppress a squeak but failed miserabky when Alasdair bumped into Albert, paused and then, despite the black look he was given by the dark haired boy, lifted his hand-gun to him and whispered: "Boom."

"You act like such a child sometimes, Whitehall."

"And you as stern as my grandfather..." The blond young man narrowed his eyes to slits. "... right before he started his glamorous career as drag queen in Paris... Is there anything you'd like to tell us, Bertie?"

Albert just rolled his eyes at that and proceeded gathering items for taking a shower from his bed. Alasdair shrugged and walked over to the big mirror at the back of the room. Victoria, who just couldn't help grinning while shaking her head, followed him.

"You don't actually have a drag queen grandfather, do you?"

"No, both died as 'perfect gentlemen'. Boring, right?" As he was talking, he rearranged his hair, whereas Victoria only glanced at her reflexion once. She did like to marvel at her appearance sometimes, especially since she'd gotten into a visibly athletic shape, however, she never did that in front of the others in fear of seeming arrogant or the like... Alasdair didn't have a problem with that.

"Well,", she said with a smirk on her lips. "to bring it back to our previous topic: I may have looked a little like an Amazon out there, but at least, I'm not as vain as others, Mr Whitehall."

"Oh please, woman, don't act like you don't find me attractive as well. I've seen your glances."

"Pardon? Which glances are you talking about?"

He held one finger up. "Shshsh, it's alright..."

Victoria arched one brow, crossing her arms.

Alasdair was handsome indeed. He had been good-looking before too, but now that his former lean body had adopted a more athletic form, his muscles being not too wiry or big, but rather defined in a very decent way, his level of attractiveness _had _been raised to a remarkable level. His previously short fair hair had also reached the perfect length to style it in the most diverse ways, albeit he usually, as now, adhered to the classic comb over, which, Victoria agreed, suited him best.

Naturally, however, she wouldn't tell him any of this. The last five months his ego had expanded and expanded and she certainly wouldn't be the one to add fuel to the flames... not if she could have a little fun with him instead.

She eyed him for a moment, then spoke up in a slightly hesitating tone: "May I touch it?"

In an instant he averted his eyes from the mirror. "Huh?"

"Your hair. There's just something I need to check up."

A nervous expression flashed over his face for a second and Victoria almost threw her plan over therefore, but then he straightened and grinned triumphantly and she decided it was the right decision. "I knew you liked my hair. I could see it in your eyes."

"Hush your mouth and stand still.", she giggled and reached up. For a moment she maintained a concentrated expression, ran her hand over his freshly styled hair... and then she ruffled it forcefully.

He slapped her hand away and quickly reached into hers, but before he could only touch more than one strand of her tied back hair, she jostled him away, furious all of a sudden.

"WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING, ALASDAIR?! DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO ARRANGE IT THAT WAY?", she shouted at him. From the corner of her eye she saw that even Albert had directed his attention to her frowning.

Alasdair didn't frown, though. His eyes were widened in shock. "I... I thought you wouldn't-"

"- MIND BECAUSE I RUFFLED YOURS TOO?! THAT'S SOMETHING ENTIRELY DIFFERENT, YOU FOOL! YOU CAN'T DO THAT WITH A GIRL! ALL THIS WORK FOR NOTHING! THANK YOU VERY MUCH!"

He swallowed, held his hands up in a soothing manner. "I-I'm so sorry. I didn't know..."

But before he could end his sentence she burst into laughter again. "Oh my God, you should see your face!"

At first he just blinked in confusion, obviously not able to process her quick changes of mood so fast, but then he took a step back, mouth agape. "That was just an act?!", he screeched in this high-pitched voice he only made use of when being overly excited or every time she hoaxed him, which, now that she thought about it, happened pretty often. Half angry, half amused looking he pointed at her. "Oh, I wish that you always step in a wet spot after putting on fresh socks, you mean little bi-" The moment the dormitory's door opened and Merlin entered, Alasdair's face and tone changed into one of forced enthusiasm. "-iiiiillion pounds a year! Can you believe that?"

"Victoria.", Merlin made her, who was just nodding at Alasdair's fake statement, desperately trying not to laugh, stand to attention.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Follow me."

He held the door open for her and took the lead then as soon as they'd left the dormitory.

Victoria's stomach hurt a bit from laughing so hard and exhilaration still lingered within her, but now it mixed with bewilderment, as she had no idea where Merlin could possibly lead her to. It couldn't be another call from her mother, could it? She'd only called some days ago and would only do it again so soon after if something of importance had happened. Could it be an emergency? Had anything happened to her brothers?

As if answering her, Merlin turned into a corridor of the Kingsman mansion that didn't lead to the small office room she'd always taken the calls in. Alright, no emergency after all. Maybe he just wanted to discuss her performance of today's field test or anything else concerning the training. There wasn't anything she'd done wrong the past weeks, so sending her home was no option either, especially since the calm instructor had never made bones about that matter, had told Nicholas and Godfrey to go pack up in front of the whole group...

What if he just attempted to be more sensitive with her? If he considered it better to throw her out in private, because of some dull reason? No, Merlin had never treated her any different to the other candidates and would certainly not start doing that now. Or would he?

Feeling feebleness creep into her legs, Victoria quickly concentrated on her surroundings to not get lost in her speculations. She knew the dimly lit corridor they were walking down very well. It led to the library, Alasdair's and her favourite place in the entire estate. This was not only the result of the vintage style of its furnishings - gradually, Victoria's brain already established a connection between Kingsman and wood panelling - or its astounding variety of reading material - the library not only harboured on-topic literature concerning the craft of a Kingsman, but also classics and new publications of esteemed authors - they also loved the smell in there that was so strong it even seeped out of the doors into the corridor and Victoria's nose now. This amazing smell of wood and paper... and something else.

Victoria frowned. There was something else in the air now, a pleasant scent she hadn't perceived for quite a while... A scent that made a certain name pop up in her head and her heart pound in anticipation.

By the time Merlin opened one of the doors to the library for her, a broad smile had occupied her features and even though she already knew who was in there, it felt like being struck by lightning when the time to face him had come.

As was suitable for a gentleman, Galahad stood up from the wooden table amidst the library when she entered. He was wearing a light grey windowpane suit, combined with a light blue shirt and a dark blue polka dot tie, which Victoria hadn't seen on him before. Apart from that... he looked exactly the way she remembered him. She hadn't seen him since he'd brought her here, an event which already seemed so incredibly far away to her mind. But _him_ she would never forget.

For a split second Victoria envied Alasdair to have had the time to fix his appearance, however, it was all overshadowed by the pure joy she felt when the Kingsman greeted her with one of his charming smiles.

"I'll wait outside.", Merlin stated, still holding the door open next to Victoria.

Galahad glanced at him, gave him a nod. Her instructor closed the door behind her and then she was alone with him, her mentor.

"Long time no see.", he said calmly, but she could pick out delight within it too.

Victoria beamed at him. She quickly took some steps forward to shake his hand. "Long time no see, indeed!" Her wide smile turned into something more resembling a smirk. "Guess you have been busy saving the world, hm?"

Galahad shrugged lightly. "I do my best. Please, take a seat." They sat down opposite each other. As Victoria noticed now there was a file with her name on it lying on top of the table. It bugged her a little that there actually was such a considerable detail escaping her attention, but then again she _was_ distracted.

"How are you?", the Kingsman asked when she was finished adjusting in her seat.

"Oh, I'm splendid! Thank you for asking. How are you?"

"I'm good. More than good. After all..." He looked directly into her eyes, which, now that they were so close, send a tingling sensation through her body. "... I seem to have proposed one of the top candidates for this job." He opened the file in front of him, read out loud: "Constantly achieving more than 95% on theoretical exams, an average hit rate of 90%, outstanding agility and overall physical fitness..."

Victoria smirked, imitated his actions from earlier with a shrug. "I do my best."

"I know you do. The performance you delivered today made that abundantly clear."

"You watched it?"

"I did. And I have to say... I'm thoroughly impressed. I have never seen anything like that, that amount of progress made in such a short time. Even Merlin says you're a quicker learner than any candidate he ever instructed."

For a moment Victoria didn't know what to respond to that, just looked down at her clasped hands. Then she remembered something. "Well,", she said with a soft voice, raising her eyes to his again. "I told you I won't let you regret your decision, didn't I?"

For a second Galahad paused, just seemed to take in her appearance. "You did." Again he glanced down at the file. "You _did_ seem to have some issues with the physical training in the beginning, however."

Victoria grimaced and sat back. "True. I admit it was quite a rough time. I wasn't actually surprised by the training's severity, but I definitely haven't been prepared from a physical aspect." She laughed with slight embitterment. "Never been that exhausted before."

"I can imagine that it was particularly difficult as you were having differences with your fellow candidates as well."

The statement caught her off guard, especially since Galahad had given voice to it in the same calm tone and with the same neutral expression he had been wearing for a large part of their conversation now. She was aware that Merlin must have informed him and the other Kingsmen about everything their mentees had been doing the last months, but actually she had assumed that information being restricted to their professional activities. She wouldn't have thought Merlin to know what had been going on between her and her fellow contestants, let alone record it.

"Merlin reported to me that you and another candidate started to isolate yourself from the group right at the beginning. May I ask why that was the case?"

Looking down at her hands again, Victoria took a deep breath. She wanted to bluster forth with the truth, how the others had accused her of murder - oh, no, just manslaughter, right... - and how they had been talking behind her back, how they had been treating her like dirt from day one... But she wouldn't. It might seem like she was seeking help from him, which she wasn't. He _was_ her mentor and she _did _trust him... but she would beat those muppets on her own and by fair means. "They deemed me unsuitable for Kingsman.", was what she eventually said in a calm voice similar to her counterpart's, save the undertone of peevishness.

"I see." He paused for a moment, seemed to ponder. "The thing is,", he then rose to speak, making Victoria finally look at him again. "no matter how dull their opinions might be, by turning away from them you only harm yourself."

Victoria frowned. "What do you mean? They are applying for the same job. I am bound to outdo them anyway, am I not?"

"What I mean is that disassociating yourself from the others affects your and their reaction time when it comes to team work. A relationship based on negativity or indifference commonly also involves a longer time to respond in an emergency situation and I dare say you have already learnt in your first night here that there are circumstances where every split second counts. You have to be able to rely on your partners, and they have to be able to rely on you."

As much as Victoria tried to reflect on everything he'd just said, one detail consistently caught her attention. '_No matter how dull their opinions might be_'. Was the Kingsman speaking of experience here? Perhaps, if Albert had been right when he had claimed once that Galahad was an exceedingly liberal thinker, he was as much of an outsider as Victoria. However, that seemed highly improbable. Taking his enjoyable presence into account Victoria couldn't imagine him not getting along with any of his collegues. What she could imagine, though, was that, to some extent, he did distance himself from individuals like Alasdair's father, this coldhearted, apathetic, nasty swine...

_Easy, Victoria_, she calmed herself down as she felt rage bubble up inside her. Alasdair had told her so much about his harrowing 'family life' the past months, but she doubted that Horace Whitehall would be just as open with private affairs, and, being the gentleman he was, Galahad would not ask him about it either. He surely befriended him as well as his other fellow Kingsmen... however, if the majority at Kingsman was holding a rather conventional ideology, these acquaintances were probably of a more superficial nature, as was the case with so many relationships in the upper class.

Behaving like a proper lady again, Victoria straightened in her seat. "I will see what I can do."

Galahad nodded. "Good." He closed the file and relaxed visibly, a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "On a lighter note, I was granted to give you a hint on what your next weeks of training might look like. There will not be any specific physical and theoretical training anymore. This is relinquished to you and you may use Kingsman's facilities to your own discretion. However, there are even more authentic, even riskier simulations of actual Kingsman missions ahead of you. They will not only measure your physical and mental abilities, but also your resilience, how you cope with a high level of stress and such."

Again a smirk spread on Victoria's face. "I am looking forward to it."

Galahad replied with a similar expression. Then he squared his shoulders. "Now, do you have any questions?"

Victoria thought about it for a second. There had been one certain question popping up in her mind over and over again since she'd lain eyes on him again, also deriving from what Albert had said about him, but she was hesitant to ask it. "I do, but... it doesn't concern the training directly."

Galahad rejected her concerns with a wave of his hand. "Please, go ahead."

She nodded, took a deep breath. "Why did you propose me as your candidate?"

It was clear that he had not been prepared for that.

Frowning, he shifted a little in his seat. "Are you grappling with doubts, Victoria?"

Her eyes widened. "No! God, no! I'm just wondering because..." Being at a loss of words, Victoria sighed. "As much as I certainly don't approve of what my fellow candidates say about me, I do understand why they considered me unsuitable for being a Kingsman. I _have_ been unsuitable concerning the physical aspect... and you knew that back then. So, why did you still make me your candidate?"

Seconds passed, as Galahad was just looking down at the file on the table. Uneasiness threatened to overcome Victoria. Just when the silence became almost unbearable and she was about to speak up again, Galahad raised his eyes. "I chose you because you had something whose lack thereof made Merlin send two boys home already: the required mindset. You said it yourself: 'Ambition and a strong will', they are the pillars of every Kingsman's strength. Most importantly, however, the essence of a Kingsman, is the willingness to make sacrifices for the greater good. And you, Victoria, already proved to be willing to do so the night we met." He paused, just for a moment, but the way he looked directly into Victoria's eyes made it seem like an eternity for her. "Whoever told you that you are not suitable for being a Kingsman has no idea what it's like to be one."

"Thank you...", she breathed with a soft smile after letting his words sink in.

"Any more questions?"

"No. I think you have told me everything I need to know."

"Good.", he said, collected the file and got ready to stand up. So did Victoria. "Due to the faster advance of the training, we will meet up sooner than before."

While walking back to the door with him, Victoria smiled at Galahad. "I'm pleased to hear that."

He opened the door, then held his hand out for another handshake. "It was great to see you again. Good luck for following trials, although I don't think you actually need it."

Victoria's smile grew even bigger. "See you soon, Galahad.", she said and stepped out into the corridor, where she already saw Merlin approaching from the very back.

"Oh, one more thing!"

She turned back around to Galahad.

"I have a question for _you_."

"Yes?"

Giving up on his neutral mask, an amused expression occupied his features now. "Why did you name your dog Harry?"

Victoria was glad that she corridor was so dimly lit, so that he couldn't see her blushing. Instead, she just arched a brow at him. "Oh, don't you be smug about that. Your name was simply the first male one that crossed my mind."

"Well... Why was it the first to cross your mind?"

She opened her mouth, but closed it right after, since she didn't know what to respond. Irritated, she turned to Merlin who just came to a stand beside her. "Merlin, this Kingsman is being impertinent. You should lecture him on proper manners."

"Well...", The bald instructor exchanged a glance with Galahad, then looked at her. "his name _did_ cross your mind first."

Arms akimbo, she glowered at him."On whose side are you?"

"I'm on the side of truth."

Galahad chuckled.

Victoria glared at both of them, barely able to keep her mouth from grinning too. "You two are impossible together."

With that she flipped her ponytail back and strutted down the corridor, though its anticipated effect was thoroughly dashed to pieces when Merlin called after her in an almost bored tone: "When you're finished sulking, would you please send Albert in here. Thank you."


	23. Below the Surface

_**Author's Note: LOOK WHO'S BACK FROM NORWAAAY :D T'was an awesome trip but UGH it's so annoying to write on a phone . Maybe my fingers are just too fat for those tiny keys... No, let's agree on the keys being too small ^-^ **_

**_Those reviews I received during my stay in Norway... You guys actually made my exhausting moments there bearable. I thank you sooo much for reading and even liking this story! *cuddling you to infinity and beyoooond* _**

**Morgan Le Fay_: Schön zu sehen, dass auch Deutschsprachige diese Story lesen ;)_**

**_And now please enjoy, Ladies and Gentlemen!_**

* * *

**Below the Surface**

_How am I supposed to do that?_

Buried in thought, Victoria stared through the small window to her right. The sea waves clashed against each other beneath the helicopter, spumed so heavily that the ocean looked more white than blue, and still the prospect of having to jump into them didn't bother her as much as Galahad's words.

'_By turning away from them you only harm yoursel_f'

How was she supposed to integrate herself into this group after five months of practically ignoring everyone around her except Alasdair. She'd attempted to speak to him about it, consulting him, however, he'd been too upset from his own conversation with his mentor.

_Conversation... My foot!_

Alasdair's father hadn't even taken the trouble to turn up there, had merely called. And that for ludicrous four minutes. Four minutes! He had not spoken to his son for five whole months and all he had to spare were four bloody minutes on the phone?!

Victoria had seethed with rage about this iniquity and only Alasdair himself had been able to calm her down. He wouldn't care, he'd told her, not even that his father hadn't actually acknowledged his admirable progress. He wouldn't need his father's endorsement. And, by the look of it, he wouldn't get it, as his father had used his time on the phone to remind Alasdair that the actual training hadn't even started yet and if he really didn't want to be sent home he'd have to redouble his efforts... The pressure he was experiencing must be higher than anyone else's.

And still the blond boy seemed calm now that he was sitting next to her. Quiet and a little more serious than usual, but calm. Although, Victoria had to admit that it was hard to tell if he was only faking it, since she couldn't make out his heartbeat in the diving suits the Kingsman candidates were wearing.

"_Alright, listen up._", Merlin's voice rang out from the integrated headset in her hood. "_Good news. The storm will subside, but only after your mission had started, which means that it's going to be even more thrilling than planned._"

"Whoo.", Alasdair murmured in the exact sarcastic tone Merlin had just been using.

"_Your mission is to retrieve any items traceable to Kingsman from a submarine wreck before it is searched by divers of an other organisation. Until their arrival you have two hours precisely. You don't reach the assembly point on time or with at least one item, you fail and go home. Is that understood?_"

"Aye, Sir!", they replied in a choir.

"_Drop zone, two minutes_."

They put on their full-face diving masks and strapped the previously prepared BCD with the oxygen tank on it to their backs. While Alasdair performed the mandatory safety check on her, she looked at Hugo next to her who was just finishing buckling. Following Galahad's words still haunting her mind, a thought crossed it now and before she could stop herself from doing so, Victoria put on a small smile and said: "You need me to check on your BCD, Hugo?"

The boy frowned at her and she knew it'd been a bad idea.

"No... thank you.", he said in a dismissive manner and turned to Alexander to let _him _check on his BCD.

In the attempt to lower the embarrassment that went with his rejection she nodded and turned to look out the window again.

"What was that about?", Alasdair whispered, utterly confused.

She bit her lip and grumbled: "Later." As much as she would try to follow Galahad's advise, she now had to concentrate on her mission. Not one moment to soon as it seemed, since the helicopter slowly stopped moving forwards, got into a rather hovering position.

Bill being next to the door shoved it aside and the storm greeted them in all its glory. Wind and raindrops slapped against the visor of Victoria's mask, even though she was still inside the helicopter. She didn't bother to clean it, though, as she was soon going to be surrounded by nothing but water anyway.

For a split second it seemed like Bill would hesitate to jump. Understandably so, to some degree at least, as the blustering waves did look a little intimidating. However, Bill was here to become a Kingsman after all and Kingsmen didn't shy away from danger. So he eventually let himself fall with a "Yeeeah!" that went loudly through the intercom, shortly followed by a sharp breath and a "Shit!", probably deriving from him struggling against the superior powers of the ocean, but since Victoria couldn't see him from where she stood, she might be wrong.

One after the other they jumped off the helicopter, some cheering, some cursing, Albert silently as ever and when it was Victoria's turn to stand there at the opening, she was suddenly overcome by some fairly strong feelings. None of fear, none of queasiness, but of pure joy. She was going to jump about 10m deep into the churning sea. Before she'd met Galahad she wouldn't even have considered doing anything like that. And now it was already part and parcel of her everyday life... oh, how she loved being here!

Smiling behind her regulator, Victoria stepped out into nothing. She fell and fell, fell... and then with a splash that was completely drowned out by the defeaning din around she was consumed by water, only to be whipped to the side.

Victoria cursed under her breath as she was tossed around by the wild ocean current. Her thoughts were racing, reminding her of her education and training and so she quickly regained her composure, let herself be sucked into the depths of the sea. The deeper she was pulled, the weaker became the current, so that she eventually freed herself from it with one swift motion of her legs just like the boys had apparently done it before, as she now spotted them floating further down, waiting for the rest of the group.

Consorting to them, Victoria looked up, though, instead of regarding her approaching collegues, she only had eyes for what lay above them. Beneath the surface the clashing waves sounded like far away thunder, the spume lit up like lightning and the swirling streams made it dance in miraculous ways. It was truly some sight to behold.

"Bloody hell!", she heard Alasdair exclaim through the intercom and turned her head to see him slow down right before her, his fins almost touching hers. Underneath his mask she could make out a wide grin. His former severity seemed to have completely vanished. "Now that's what I call fun!"

As soon as they were complete they started downwards, following the directions on their head display. With every metre they sank down it got darker and quieter around them, so that soon their own breathing had superseded the storm's roaring as the loudest noise.

It didn't take long when the lights on their shoulders began to catch more concrete forms and then... it was suddenly there, majestically rearing up from the sandy ground. The submarine wreck.

"Target ahead..", Alexander in the fore informed their instructor.

Victoria glanced up to the right corner of her head display: Still 1:04:38 to go. Very good.

Getting closer and closer to the submarine, the boys started mumbling until Edmund raised his voice entirely: "Doesn't look too imposing to me.", he said in a pejorative tone.

"Agreed.", Bill piped up. "It's really not that big. It's going to be a simple task to complete this mission in two hours, Merlin. Have a little trust in our abilities! Maybe the selection process won't take so long then!"

A few of the boys chuckled and in Merlin's voice one could detect a smile too. "_Oh, don't worry, I do trust in your abilities. In fact, I trust in them so much that I thought you could also make it with half the oxygen._"

All chuckles died, except Merlin's.

Victoria's eyes shot up to the small tank symbol on the upper left corner of her display immediately and just then it suddenly went from green to yellow, the numbers next to it sinking rapidly.

"_And that's why Kingsmen don't like to rely on their head displays too much._", Merlin said as to confirm what they have all just witnessed. "_Oh, and since two hours wouldn't make much sense now, I'll cut your time in half too, which makes it a brilliant 30 minutes to go! Is the mission exciting enough now?_"

The boys started cursing, looked at each other in confusion or horror until Edmund, suddenly breathing quite loudly into the intercom, said: "What are we supposed to do now? Should we turn back? Half the oxygen won't be enough for how far we have to go!"

Victoria turned to him. There was fear in his eyes, which she wouldn't have deemed possible for the normally tough young man... or actually, yes, she would have. After all she knew that he had always been just _acting_ tough. "Alasdair,", she said then, suppressing any undertone of concern. "Which distance can we cover with half the oxygen?"

Compared to Edmund he seemed absolutely calm, though, Victoria could make out a certain seriousness in his voice. "Uuuuhm, taking our depth into account I'd saaaaay..." Behind his visor she saw the pale boy grimace. "The way up to the boat and a few dozen metres of the submarine. Not more. We'll definitely not be able to search the whole thing, however."

"Except we split up.", Albert spoke up. "How many entrances are there, Victoria?"

It still felt unfamiliar to not be denied her abilities by the others, since they'd done that for so long, but Albert seemed to have figured that such moments were not the right time to negate her extraordinary perception skills and she would most definitely not give him any reason to anymore. "Three.", she replied like a shot. "The main one at the top, one additional in the back and a hole on the right side."

"Alright, we'll go in groups in case someone begins to panic. Two to two and one to three."

"_Good plan._", Merlin chimed in a slightly hasty tone. "_But keep your time in mind. You got 29 minutes. If you don't come up with an item, you're out._"

"I'll take the hole.", Victoria quickly declared. "Together with Edmund."

Ignoring the confused stares she got for that announcement, she already moved through the dark water towards the wreck's right side. Alasdair's was particularly puzzled, as he'd surely been rest assured that the two of them would built a team like they always did. He didn't realise that he would benefit from it as well, since she was not the only one to have commited the mistake of isolating herself. Yes, she did loathe Edmund, probably more than any of the others - save Alasdair - as he was one of the most impolite and brutal individuals she'd ever met, but this exactly was the point. '_No matter how dull their opinions might b_e' As a Kingsman she would certainly have to work together with people she didn't share the same opinions with and must not be affected by that fact in any way. This here would be the perfect exercise for that case.

She could see Edmund hesitate from the corner of her eye, but eventually he followed her. After all they were running out of time... and air to breathe.

Quite soon they reached the hole she'd spotted earlier. It was about 1 metre high and wide, its edges would probably be sharp if it wasn't for the algae and mud that adhered to it. Victoria cleared the way to let Edmund enter first. He didn't have any objections. Going in first increased the probability to find something first and to get out first too and, clearly, this was his goal.

Leading herself through the hole, anxious to not let its upper edge scrape the equipment on her back, she heard his slightly too heavy breathing through the intercom. It was a little distracting as she wanted to focus on those fascinating surroundings. The lights on her and Edmunds shoulders cut through the darkness like knives of brightness, making pipes and wheels and other unidentifiable forms visible in the narrow corridor they were just floating down, all of whom rusty and decomposed. And, again, covered with green slime.

"You should calm yourself, Edmund.", she advised him, scanning every inch of the submarine's interior for anything that might be related to Kingsman. "Slow movements, steady breathing, just like we did in training."

"_Yeah, you remember the 4-2-4 technique?_", Alexander's voice sounded in the intercom.

"Mhm.", was all Edmund replied, though even after a few moments Victoria couldn't make out much difference in his breathing.

"You know,", Victoria tried again, attempting to sound a bit enthusiastic in order provide her team-mate with some comfort. "statistics show that people's heart rates synchronise with the rhythm of the music they were listening to. Perhaps you should think of a song, a slow one."

"I can't think of any slow songs.", he grunted.

"_Ooh!_", Alasdair piped up. "_I know some! How about 'Changes' by Black Sabbath? I feel unhappy, I feel so saaaaaad..._"

"_Perhaps_,", Albert cut in just when Victoria was about to burst into laughter because of her friend's inappropriate choice of lyrics. Judging from the irritated tone in his voice, Albert didn't seem too amused by that though. "_we should all stay silent from now on. Talking only lowers our level of concentration and additionally wastes oxygen. Just report when you find something._"

* * *

"Found it!"

With her left hand around one of the numerous pipes Victoria held herself in place, whilst her right swept away some grime to expose the pale gold object her eyes had just caught. It was a broken Kingsman ring, the kind she'd seen Galahad wearing before. If this entire mission wasn't just staged, it would actually cause problems in case someone found such an item here, just like all the others the candidates had discovered the last 20 minutes.

The first one to find something here connected with Kingsman - a mouldy piece of paper attesting to their involvement in operations this submarine had been used for - had been Victoria herself, which had been commented on by Hugo with a "_Sure, our hound smells them out first!_". She still didn't know if it had been meant as a compliment or an insult.

Now, however, her findings didn't evoke anything but a short "_Good. Everyone got their items? Yes? Then let's get out of here."_ by Albert. She was glad about it, though. Anything else would have taken too much time, of which they didn't have much left anyway.

3:26, 3:25, 3:24,... The count down almost managed to make her nervous, but carrying out some breathing techniques she didn't allow things getting that far.

"How are you doing, Edmund?", she asked. He had calmed down in the last 20 minutes, but Victoria knew that his level of oxygen must be one of the lowest among the candidates.

"I'm fine.", he answered in a tone that revealed that he wasn't.

Victoria glanced up to her own display. The tank symbol had turned dark orange by now, though, the numbers next to it told her that it would be sufficient for the way up. No reason to panic. Not anymore.

"_Bill and I are out._", Alasdair informed the others. "_We can see the boat from down here. Seems like the storm actually subsided_."

"_Indeed, it did._", Merlin replied after a long pause where he'd obviously considered it wiser to not disturb his candidates' concentration. "_Concerning pressure, you will still have to proceed with caution on your way up, you hear me? Don't you all let yourself get hasty now that your oxygen level is going near zero._"

"_Aye, Sir._"

Automatically, Merlin's words conjured a small smile of relief to her lips. As much as she'd anticipated being down here, the possibility of drowning, which was quite high in their situation, had indeed put a damper to her excitement. Now she actually longed for sitting in a dry place, her bed in the dormitory maybe, stroking Harry's soft fur with her right hand, the other under her head and her eyes closed in relax-

Victoria shrieked when something shot into her field of vision, hitting against her head. Again and again the something tilted at her visor, destroyed one of the two lamps on her shoulders in doing so. Almost seeing nothing therefore, Victoria grabbed its tail - it was a moray eel she realised - and hurled it away from her, the momentum making her back crash against the submarine's wall and then... there was a metallic cracking noise that made her blood run cold.

"BACK!", Edmund shouted and as fast as possible she rushed after him, her eyes wide from the roaring that sounded behind her as the corridor collided. They bumped into each other when Edmund halted at a wall in front of him and turned with an expression of horror on his face. The roaring stopped all of a sudden and Victoria twisted around.

Where she'd just been attacked by the eel was a large pile of rusty metal now, bringing the corridor to a sudden end.

"_Victoria!_", Alasdair shouted through the intercom full of concern.

"_Victoria, Edmund, report!_", Merlin demanded in a turmoil.

Quickly, Victoria checked on herself and Edmund. "We're alright, Sir.", she panted, desperately trying to compose herself.

"Alright?!" Edmund looked at her as if she was crazy. "We're trapped! WE'RE TRAPPED!"

"_I come back for you._", Alasdair stated in the most worried tone, but Victoria objected.

"No! You stay up there!" She grabbed Edmund by his shoulders, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "We are _not_ trapped, you hear me?! I know a way out. Let's go!"

With that she turned back into the room they'd come from earlier, leading the way, which was especially dark now with only one functioning light on her shoulder.

The pounding of her own heart sounded like war drums in her ears, only fuelling her agitation, but she must. not. panic. She had to take a deep breath, pause, and exhale slowly. Inhale... exhale...

She turned right, then left, then left again and right again into another narrow corridor. Judging from what she'd been able to observe from the outside, this way must lead to the submarine's main hatch. At least she thought so. It had to.

Only from the corner of her eyes she noticed her oxygen level sink way more rapidly than before, but that wasn't what concerned her, no, it was the time, the bloody time!

1:41, 1:40, 1:39...

She reached a slightly broader part of the corridor, spotting the main hatch right above them.

"Oh... Oh, nononoNO!", Edmund's voice made her wince as she got hold of the wheel.

"What? What is it?"

"A warning just popped up on my display saying that my tank is almost empty!"

Victoria put all her strength in turning the wheel, but it only moved a tiny bit. "Don't pay any attention to it. We're almost out of here."

"Don't pay attention to it?!", he cried shakily. "I'M ALMOST OUT OF OXYGEN!"

"IGNORE IT!", she yelled. "Now come here and help me!"

He obeyed almost immediately. With all his remaining strength he opened the hatch grunting until they were finally able to lift it up and hurry into freedom.

"_Your time is running out_.", Merlin reminded them.

"You don't think I'm aware of that?! I AM AWARE OF THAT!", Victoria wanted to snap at him, but instead she just pressed her lips together, looked for the boat, their target, the end of their ordeal.

There. Straight ahead. About seventy metres away.

From their position it just looked like an oval shadow in the turquoise surface above them, but it was so much more to Victoria. Allowing herself to sigh with relief, she instantly headed towards it.

A quiet groan made her stop and turn.

"I feel dizzy.", Edmund panted weakly. Through his visor he looked pale as a ghost. His breathing didn't sound right either, was raspy as if his throat was constricted. The weak movements of his legs and arms didn't get him anywhere.

Frustration rose within Victoria as she dove down to him, grabbing him by his arm. "Come on, we almost made it!", she told him, setting him into motion after all. But they moved slowly, so very slowly.

0:56, 0:55...

Edmund seemed on the verge of tears. "I can't breathe... I can't breathe..."

Despairing, Victoria looked up to the boat. It didn't get any closer. And with Edmund concentrating on his breathing instead of moving it wouldn't get any closer aynway. They wouldn't make it on time. Victoria wouldn't make it. Victoria would have to leave Kingsman, only because of this _stupid donkey who just couldn't keep his calm_!

0:50, 0:49...

She should leave him behind. She should just let go of him and dive up quickly. She could make it on time thereby, she _would_ make it on time...

No! Kingsmen would never leave anybody behind and neither would Victoria! No matter how stupid Edmund was, he was her team member and they would get up there as a team! But how? He didn't have the energy to go up and she couldn't carry him all the way as well, it would take too much time. Edmund had to get up there on his own. He needed to brace his energies, he needed... he needed some energy... he needed oxygen...

"Alright.", Victoria eventually rose to speak in a determined, though still stressed tone, while beginning to open the straps around her waist and chest. "I'll give you my BCD and tank now. Take off your own and just let it fall-."

"_No, Victoria, you won't._", Merlin cut in in a serious tone. "_It's too risky to go without any regulators and communication. You will help Edmund up now or leave him behind. Don't take off your mask, is that understood?_"

Victoria opened Edmund's straps. He didn't object.

"_Victoria, did you hear me?_"

Holding his BCD under one arm, Edmund readied himself to take off his mask. Victoria did the same.

"Okay, I will count to three, then you take off your mask and take mine and the BCD. Don't bother to strap it on. There's no time for that."

He nodded. Victoria readied her lungs to take a particularly deep breath. One last time she glanced up at the time: 0:38

"One."

"_Victoria, you have no permission to do that! I repeat: You have no permission!_"

"Two."

"_Victoria, don't you dare-_"

"Three!"

Victoria took the deepest breath she'd ever taken, took off her mask and all voices were gone.

Freezing water that clashed against her skin, filled her ears, made the inside of her nose burn as well as her eyes so that she had to press her lids together. Blindly, she helped Edmund put on the mask and when she finally managed to open her eyes again, she saw him giving her a nod and with that the two of them set off.

Being lighter now without the weight on her back, Victoria floated up on her own. She could have made additional movements with her legs to get up faster, but that wouldn't do any good to her health concerning the decreasing level of pressure. Through her blurry vision she saw Edmund dive past her. He hurried. The time was almost up appearantly.

Victoria started to move her legs to get up faster. She felt how it strained her strength, how it made her lose energy. She ignored it. The boat was right up there. Not that far anymore. She would make it on time. She had to.

The pain in her ears ceased with every metre she approached the surface... while the one in her chest grew and grew. An unpleasant tingle rose within it now. That certainly was no good sign.

Victoria tried to keep her focus on the boat, but it became more and more difficult.

Was the water really becoming thicker around her or did it just feel like it? The muscles in her arms and legs started to burn and so did her lungs.

She needed to take a breath, stop holding it. She needed air around her, not this bloody freezing _burning_ water... She needed to get out of there. Immediately.

Victoria's movements became more frantic. She knew she shouldn't do that, but the hell with what she should and should not do! She was going to drown if she didn't! Or was she going to drown if she _did_? After all it did take even more of her energy...

She couldn't think straight. She couldn't think of anything other than the ever growing pain in her chest, this pressure, as if her lungs were shrinking and shrinking... And it burnt. It burnt so badly!

Bubbles escaped her. She ignored it, just kept her eyes up ahead. The shadow of the boat did get closer but more slowly than before. Too slowly.

Black dots formed in the corners of Victoria's eyes. At first she thought it would be fish or any other sea creature approaching her, but then there came more right in front of her, out of nowhere.

She didn't want to faint. She didn't want to drown. She didn't want to die down here. The boat was so close, so close...

Even more bubbles forced their way out of her mouth, making her lose sight of the boat, but she still kept going, still reached for it with her burning arms. The pulse in Victoria's ears was deafening, almost drowned out the groaning choking sounds she involuntarily created in her throat.

Victoria pressed her lids together, forced her limbs to get going, but still their movements became slower and slower as if they were giving up. It was just a few metres, though, just a few metres, just... a few...

And then her fingers bumped against something hard, two hands wrapped around her wrists and suddenly she was out of the water, pulled onto solid ground. The huge gulp of air she took immediately almost made her throw up as she tried to get on all forth but fell down on her back again. The sunlight burned in her eyes, the boys around her talked across each other. A man shouted: "Out of the way!" and then something was pressed against her face, the regulator screwed off of a diving mask. She slapped it away, yanked the rest of the mask from the man's hand and panted into the intercom: "My time, Merlin! What's my time?!"

It was followed by silence, so that she already thought the intercom was turned off... but then there was laughter. Laughter full of relief.

"_Still four seconds to go, Victoria. You made it. Well, _well_ done!_"

She laughed as well, which turned into coughing. She lay down on her back again and gave the young man bent over her a nod, whereupon he elevated her legs and gave her the regulator to inhale, which she did with a wide, wide smile.


	24. Track Down

**_Author's Note: Heyaaaw, lovelies! ^^ I originally planned on making this one a shorter chap... Well, oops :P_**

**GiraffePanda2_: I did that too while writing it! I almost died because I was writing too slowly xD_**

**_Now please enjoy, ladies and gentlemen, and keep reviewing! You guys are the best :D_**

* * *

**Track Down**

"And you're sure you're alright?"

Victoria rolled her eyes at Alasdair. Even now that they were walking down the corridor leading to their dormitory, far away from the ocean and their mission, he was still being overly protective... It was both sweet and annoying. "This is about the seventh time you ask me that in the last five minutes!"

"Well, you do look a bit pale."

"We are english, Alasdair, we're always a bit pale.", she laughed.

Alasdair didn't join in, just kept giving her this concerned look of his. "You almost drowned, Victoria..."

She didn't reply, simply sighed. Her friend made it sound like this incident had been the most dangerous situation she'd encountered, even though she'd soon realised that none of their lives had actually been at risk.

The young man who'd cared for her during their way back to the estate and his collegue who'd emerged from the sea soon after him? Kingsmen, there to make sure they all make it out there alive. The black dots that had formed in the corners of her eyes before she'd actually been close to fainting? Them approaching her, coming for aid. Eventually their presence hadn't been necessary, everyone, including her had made it without their help. Still, it did have one special advantage for Victoria: an additional boost of motivation.

After she'd recovered and been able to take a look at the younger one of the two Kingsman, she'd recognised him as the parachutist who'd waved at her, back when Galahad had brought her to the Kingsman estate to become a candidate in the first place. He was about her age, and had still behaved so professionally. Victoria could definitely see herself like that, she could see herself being absolutely professional, being a Kingsman, regardless of her age. It just felt so perfect, so... right. Yes, it was_ right_ for her to become a Kingsman, as if she was born for it. The thought gave her such a tingle in her stomach, she couldn't help but smile.

However, when Alasdair opened the door to the dormitory for her, her smile fell to not attract negative attention, for nobody in here was feeling like smiling. Some were pacing up and down the room, most of them stood next to Edmund. A grumpy, packing Edmund. Apparently, him being a Kingsman was _not_ right.

He'd lost the documents Victoria had found in the submarine, probably during the corridor collapse, and, as Merlin had liked to put it: No item, no Kingsman. He was out of the game.

Beside her Victoria saw Alasdair barely being able to contain a smirk, while she, on the other hand, didn't experience such glee. Nor did she experience pity. Towards him leaving Victoria felt completely indifferent. Of course on a logical level she was relieved for having fewer opponents to worry about, but on an emotional one... nothing. She took it as a good sign, though. After all that might mean that she was finally able to let go of her harsh feelings towards the others.

Ignoring all the fuss in the dormitory, she walked past the upset looking crowd, towards Harry lying on her bed. He stayed put, but judging from his barking and violently waggling tail she knew he was happy to see her.

"Well, did you miss me, dear?", she whispered, rubbing all over his head, just the way he liked it.

Their relationship had truly flourished in the past months, in fact so much, Victoria sometimes doubted the verisimilitude of her memories on the first few weeks she'd spent here with him. How could she ever have disliked him? The now almost full grown brown spotted Pointer was such a bundle of joy! Such a loyal friend! Victoria had never deemed it possible to bond with an animal more than with the most humans, but... well, how could she not, especially when looking into those gorgeous amber eyes?

"Hey, you take that back at once!", Victoria suddenly heard Alasdair snap at someone, making her and her dog prick up their ears. Marching towards the small crowd, Theodora gracefully scurrying after him, he pointed right at Edmund as he spoke: "You think I wouldn't hear that?!"

With a few quick steps, Victoria was beside him, gently holding him back by his arm. "What's going on here?"

Alasdair, the usually pale skin of his face red from anger, didn't take his eyes from Edmund's, who looked rather uncomfortable with the situation, just like the other boys around him, except Albert, who just folded his arms across his chest without ruffle or excitement. "What? You don't have the courage to say it to her face?", he snarled, then finally turned to Victoria. "He insulted you and said it was _your_ fault he had to leave!"

She furrowed her brow, looked at Edmund, perplexed. "My fault?"

The bulky young man, having his lips pressed together in a sour manner, tried to exchange a look with Albert, but he just kept staring at Victoria, as if curious about her reaction. Obviously at a loss about how to handle this delicate situation without his friend's instructions, he then considered it best to vent his spleen: "You made me look like an idiot!"

"Oh, don't be modest! You managed to do so yourself!", Alasdair laughed.

Victoria reprimanded her friend with a reproving glance and, calmly, turned to Edmund then: "I fear I have no idea what you are talking about. I was just trying to help you."

"You had no objection against her doing that down there.", Alasdair tossed in exactly what had crossed Victoria's mind too, but what she'd avoided to give voice to in order to not sound hostile.

"I almost drowned and she used that moment to play the hero!"

"I assure you,", she answered Edmund still absolutely calm. "I merely tried to get you out of there safely, since, after we had no idea that there was anyone there to rescue us in case something goes horribly wrong, I thought you would die if I didn't. I gave you my own oxygen. I risked my own life to help you. It was _not_ my intention to humiliate you by that, nor to push myself to the fore."

"Yeah, sure...", he grunted, whereupon Victoria just sighed.

Gently pushing Alasdair back towards his bed, she concluded with: "We are sorry you have to leave-"

"We? I'm not sorry."

"- and _we_ wish you a pleasant journey. Good bye, Edmund."

Just as she was about to lecture Alasdair on exercising restraint, as, thereby, he made it even more difficult for her to follow Galahad's advice and to get out of isolation, her exceptional hearing made her conceive some whispered words by Edmund which definitely were not supposed to reach her: "You were right. You all have to be wary of her sabotage attempts or you will suffer the same fate as I did."

Being kicked in the stomach. Yes, that's exactly the memory his words triggered in her mind. Accompanied by the feeling. In addition to that it felt like the anger that had seized Alasdair only seconds before now decided to change over to her, which was why her face was distorted with rage and indignation when she spun around. "I beg your pardon?!" She let go of Alasdair's arm and stomped back across the room to Edmund. "You accuse me of _sabotaging_ you?! How on earth can my rescue operation be interpreted as sabotage?!"

Being its contagious self, Victoria's rage infected Edmund all over again. "I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about the corridor, the bloody corridor you made collapse!

Alasdair stepped forward. "Don't act like you would have greeted this moray eel with a kiss, knobhead!"

Edmund's eyes widened. "What did you call me?!"

He took a quick step towards Alasdair, but Victoria stood in his way. "Stay. Back."

"You don't get to tell me what to do!", he snarled at her. "You threw me out of the game with your bloody corridor act!"

"Are you implying I did it on purpose?!" She chuckled. There was no happiness in it, though. "I believe Alasdair was right. You absolutely need no support in making yourself look like a fool."

"You little-!" In an instant Albert was in front of him, pressing his left hand against Edmund's chest and warning him with a glare. Though, when he spoke up, he didn't address the bulky boy, but Victoria.

"It's enough, alright? Don't get personal.", he tried to reprimand her in his usual stern manner, but Victoria wouldn't have any of it.

"Don't get personal?!" The hypocrisy in this ridiculous remark almost made her laugh in frustration. Instead, she just looked daggers at Albert. Then the scales fell from her eyes and she narrowed them to slits. "It was you, wasn't it? Edmund said 'You were right' earlier. _You_ put this idea about sabotage in his head, did you not?"

He raised a brow. "I never mentioned sabotage to Edmund. I merely pointed out that if the corridor didn't collapse, he wouldn't have found himself in a life threatening situation in the first place and he wouldn't have lost his item-"

"The item I have found for him."

"-which does imply a certain link between those events. Even you cannot deny that fact."

Victoria didn't reply, didn't even move. Just stared into Albert's eyes as she finally did something she'd never done before. She gave up.

She wouldn't heed Galahad's advice. She couldn't. By no means could she bring herself to bond with somebody so cruel, not in the slightest way. And he was cruel, Albert. Cruel and brutal. He could gainsay it as much as he wanted, but he _was_ as much of a brute as Edmund, except that rather than someone's body, Albert attacked the psyche. How he got so popular nevertheless remained a mystery to her. All those boys under his thumb, absolutely unreachable for her because of all this power he wielded over them... and they didn't even realise it.

Time to open their eyes.

Her shoulders straightened, her head held high, Victoria stepped forward, closer to Albert, so close that others would have backed away already. But not him, of course. He just looked down at her, one brow raised, as she began to speak in a low tone: "You always act so logical, so diplomatic. That may cast a spell over the others, but, let me tell you, I am _not_ impressed. I see through your pseudo-diplomacy, your manipulations." She tilted her head to the side a little. "I wonder how your little followers would react if they knew about all the lies you are telling them to make them adore you."

A weary smile spread across his lips. "Lies? And which lies are you charging me with having spread?"

"Well, for instance I heard you pride yourself on several occasions how you managed to get into this elitist military school at such a young age. That's what I call a big lie."

A murmur went through the small crowd of boys surrounding them, while Albert's expression froze. Oh, how marvellous it was to see him getting paler and paler with every word of hers: "You didn't even have to pass an acceptance test, did you? You just got admitted without lifting a finger. Not because you were so talented, however..."

"Who told you-", he started to whisper, but Victoria cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. You boys didn't give me this lovely nickname 'hound' for nothing. I can smell your lies, Albert. I tracked down the real you and what I found is an arrogant prat, spoiled by his military man of a father. Of course, he is a military man. No business man would put his son into military education so early, no, they want them to pursue the same career as they did. And that's exactly what your father did, right? Keeping in mind that we are all so-called rich kids and that payment in the royal army usually is... let's say, it leaves much to be desired, except for officers, I guess your father is a... Colonel? No... Brigadier? Ah, yes, that's it.

So Brigadier-Dad got his precious little prince into this wonderful school to make him follow in his footsteps. I imagine him being so proud of his Bertie's remarkable progress there. Oh, it must have been crushing for him when his prince decided to join a military organisation he has absolutely no control over. All his efforts... overthrown... abandoned by little prince Bertie. This is why he never calls you here, isn't it? And why he never writes. The letters you receive and often have so fabulously glittery fingers from surely are not from him, unless he's either a quite playful lad or you are secretly a fairy. Since those two options are highly improbable, I presume you have a little sibling writing you? A... sister?"

As pale as he was, now Albert's expression darkened and his breathing quickened gradually. "Stop. Right now.", he hissed threateningly.

Victoria ignored it. "So many pretty letters... and none of them gets answered. Don't look at me like that, it's easy to get to know such things by observing properly. You never have this smudge of ink or anything else on your fingers that usually occurs when writing, not even the smallest one. I could have just missed you washing it off but -" She giggled. "- when do I ever miss anything? Besides, answering such a remarkable amount of letters should cause writer's callus, however, I don't see any signs of that on your hands. Never did. So, as someone who is also a little sister to two wonderful brothers who would have never neglected me in such a way, my question is: Why aren't you writing back? What is the reason for this callous behaviour towards a young girl that's just reaching out to her big brother? Are you suspecting her of sneaking everything you tell her to your father? Do you think she spies on you for him?"

"Stop. Talking."

"Or are you simply too jealous of this poor girl, daddy's new favourite, to scorn to answer her?"

"I SAID SHUT YOUR MOUTH!", he burst suddenly, jostling her away from him, which instantly caused Alasdair to dart at him, but Victoria held him back, just as Hugo and Alexander did with Albert, since he was still raging. "You have no right to speculate on my private life! _No right_!"

Victoria had never seen the young man in such a state, trampling all over his usual stoic manner. It would be downright frightening, if she wasn't still seething herself. "Neither do you about mine and still you did from the beginning on!", she shouted. "From day one, you spread lies about me that made everyone behave vicious toward me! You manipulated everyone to pick on me, but are constantly rejecting every blame for it, you coward!"

Albert shook his collegue's hands off, signalled them that he wouldn't leap at Victoria, however, he still looked like fuming internally. There was no sign that he felt one bit of guilt towards her, even though she was now so plainly unveiling the truth about how he'd mistreated her and others. He definitely was no gentleman. No Kingsman.

Victoria shook her head, eyed him with disgust on her face. "I can't imagine how any Kingsman could have ever thought you would be the right choice for this job. You, Albert Camden, are a disgrace to chivalry." With that she turned around, dragging a similarly steaming Alasdair with her towards the door. She desperately was in need of a break from Albert and all the others.

Only barely she heard Albert murmur behind them: "Well, at least to get here I didn't nosh my mentor off..."

From the corner of her eyes, Victoria saw Alasdair suddenly spin around and, at such an incredible speed that would educe a proud laugh from Mr Walters, he let his fist shoot forward. Right into Albert's face.

With a bang the dark-haired one met the ground.

And then all hell broke loose.

Albert's dog, a doberman, made a dash at Alasdair, Theodora threw herself in his way, which made Harry come to her aid in an instant, which again made the other dogs go wild as well and the only thing louder than the barking was their owner's screams as they were trying to hold them back. Only thanks to their training they managed to seperate Harry, Theodora and Albert's dog, but human fights, if only verbal, followed right after. Hugo and Edmund yelled at Alasdair, who'd already switched from furious to utterly shocked the moment his hand had made contact with Albert's skin, while Victoria tried to pull him back, away from them, though there Edmund collared the blond one, seemingly being on the verge to hit him as well.

"NO!", Albert, still lying on the floor supported by Bill and Alexander, clutching the left side of his face, shouted at him. "No, leave them! Let them go!"

And that's what they did. Her arm around his shoulder in a protective manner, Victoria quickly took something from her bed and guided a nearly paralysed looking Alasdair out the dormitory, Theodora and Harry following them still snarling and baring their teeth.

As soon as the door was shut behind them, Victoria shoved Alasdair to the side. "What the hell have you done, Alasdair?! What were you thinking?!"

"I-I don't know!", he replied in a shaky voice, running his hands through his hair. "I just snapped! You heard what he said about you!"

"Yes, I did, of course I did! But we must not give in to provocation!" Victoria took a deep breath, wiped the sweat from her forehead. "Alasdair...", she started, concern now gaining the upper hand in her tone. "Do you actually realise what your outburst will cost you now? You will get thrown out of the programme!"

"_I know_! I don't need _you_ to explain to me how severe the consequences are, I _know_ about them! My father told me-" He paused, then leant against the wall, let himself glide down with his hands cupping his face. "My father... Oh my God, oh my God...", he murmured over and over. He sounded so frightened... and Victoria had absolutely no idea how to console him. She felt so helpless, so _useless_.

Her friend, her only true friend here, was going to be sent home for defending her. It was all her fault. And she couldn't do anything to help him now. Except maybe one thing.

"Alasdair,", she began with a soft voice, kneeling down next to him. "you should calm down. Despairing won't change a thing about what happened. Besides, we may be able to convince Merlin to not boot you out after all."

"And how are we supposed to do that?", Alasdair whispered when he finally lifted his head to look at her.

"I don't know yet." She sighed. "But for now we will have to wait. Be calm. Or those twits inside will eat you alive, alright?" Forcing a smile to her lips, she held up Alasdair's walkman, which she'd grabbed on their way out. "Perhaps a little music can help you accomplish that."

For a moment he kept looking into her eyes, fear sparkling in his own. Then he gave her the smallest of nods, put the headphones on and visibly sunk into an other world, a world he wouldn't have to face his father's disappointment, his rage, or whatever this man would meet him with. Victoria was grateful that Alasdair closed his eyes as he did so, since then he couldn't read in hers that, really, she held out no hope for him.

* * *

The next day was fittingly grey. The cloudy sky mirrored the Kingsman candidate's gloomy expressions yesterday's events have left them with. Only when it was time to line up and face their instructor, they all put on their blank masks.

From the corner of her eyes, Victoria saw Alasdair doing the same. He seemed completely focused, though, on a closer look, she did make out a tiny shiver in his jaw, which surely got especially difficult to control when Merlin passed him.

His eyes fixed on the notes on his clipboard in the crook of his arm, he walked down the line, just like he always did. Just like he wouldn't know about yesterday's occurrences in the dormitory. However, Victoria highly doubted that.

Eventually, what was bound to happen did happen and the bald instructor stopped walking and raised his eyes... to Albert's face.

Alasdair's punch had left quite a mark on him. His left cheek was a little swollen - not as much as yesterday, though, when it had actually resembled a reddish baked bread bun - and right under his eye there was a large purple triangle, which on one side passed into some small lacerations. All in all he looked terrible, even more terrible than she had in her first week in training.

"What happened to your face?", Merlin inquired in a completely neutral tone.

Alasdair stiffened. Victoria could barely keep herself from doing the same. Her thoughts were racing, desperately searching for the best way for Alasdair to explain himself, defuse the situation and maybe, with a whole load of luck, persuading their instructor to not send him home.

They stopped immediately when Albert spoke up in his usual cool, stoic manner: "I slipped in the dormitory shower, Sir. I guess yesterday's mission affected me more than I prefer. I'm afraid the incident left a crack in a few tiles, which, of course, I am willing to repair."

_What on earth?_ He was lying right into Merlin's face! Yes, there was a crack in some tiles, but that was due to Nick and Alexander having played a stupid game quite a while ago, which had included throwing things through the whole room. That yesterday's mission had affected him to a high degree was not too far fetched, admittedly. It_ had_ been quite disturbing, after all. But slipping in the shower... No, Merlin wouldn't buy it.

"You slipped in the shower?", he repeated as if confirming Victoria's worries.

"Yes, Sir, I did."

Looking over the rim of his glasses, Merlin's eyes bored into the dark haired boy. The tension was almost unbearable. But Albert didn't seem to bother, didn't cave in.

"Does your injury affect your eyesight?"

"No, Sir. I ran a few self-tests, all of which turned out negative."

"Good. Still, after completing today's tasks, you will report to sick bay."

"Aye, Sir."

The instructor nodded and started walking again. "Today we will start with a special firing practice..."

As he continued speaking, Victoria had to make every effort to retain control over herself, even though, what she would actually like to do was sighing with relief and laugh out loud. Alasdair next to her obviously had the same problem, as the corners of his mouth didn't stop twitching. But he managed to stare straight ahead, not direct any attention to him and push his incredible luck.

He would stay. _Alasdair would stay_! However, as much as Victoria rejoiced about that, their victory did have a slightly bittersweet taste to it. After all, it was not due to_ them_.

She couldn't be entirely sure if Merlin actually had a clue about what had happened, but the way he'd looked at Albert... If anything, he'd looked curious. Curious about how Albert would react during a confrontation. Could it be that he'd left the decision over Alasdair's fate to _him_? Improbable. But not impossible. Just like Albert's eventual decision.

Why had he protected Alasdair? Why had he lied for him? It would have been his right to report his act of violence, but no, he chose to lie to his instructor and risk his own being here thereby. Was it some scheme of revenge that motivated him to this generous deed? Was it shame, since he, one of the best of their group, hadn't been able to block Alasdair's punch? Was it guilt towards what he said about Victoria? Or, the most improbable of all options, did he finally sympathise with her and Alasdair, since now his social environment was akin to theirs?

Apparently, what Victoria had unveiled about him yesterday had had a considerable effect on the other candidate's behaviour towards him. They didn't treat him with the same indifference or hostility they'd met her with, naturally, but they did give him only the shortest of replies when he approached them, didn't follow him wherever he went like they used to. It seemed like they had finally realised that he was not the great leader or friend he had pretended to be.

The king had been dethroned.

And Victoria was not as happy about it as she'd expected to be.


	25. Heritage

_**Author's Note: PEEEEEEOPLE! I DID IT! I WENT ON A TRIP TO LONDON AND VISITED THE HUNTSMAN/KINGSMAN SHOP O-O it's soooooo amazing! They have Kingsman stuff everywhere, pics of Colin Firth and all that, they're so proud of being part of the movie it's so cute XD Plus the salesman there was mega hot and polite (he might be a Kingsman himself ;) ) You guys should definitely pay it a visit as well, can only recommend it ^^**_

** GiraffePanda_: Thank you so much! I'm glad you liked it :) And yes, your translation is perfectly correct ;)_**

**_Please enjoy, Ladies and Gentleman, and keep reviewing! You people are really great readers, I enjoy writing for you so much :D_**

* * *

**Heritage**

Far more smoothly than expected, she finally landed in the white circle. Considering the circumstances, and the increased level of stress they were accompanied with, that hadn't been certain at all. Good gracious, it hadn't even been certain if she'd have a parachute! Sometimes she had the feeling that Merlin had got his mission simulation ideas from a book entitled '_100 Fun Ways to Scare the Hell out of People_', particularly as he chuckled every time the Kngsman candidates started to panic. He evidently enjoyed their misery. Somehow, that fact amused her.

A fluttering sound, the one of nylon braving against wind, reached her, so she cleared space for her collegue. It was Alasdair, probably, after all they had formed one of the three pairs to support each other in case their partner turned out to be the unlucky one without parachute. Fortunately, neither Alasdair nor Victoria herself had had to bear that burden.

The boy landed next to her in completely unproblematic fashion as well. Though, when he took off his helmet, it was not light blond hair and the familiar wide smile that greeted her, but dark one and a rather stony expression.

Albert.

Suddenly, picking up her parachute became so much more interesting. At least it was better than having to face this awkward situation.

Since the incident in the dormitory, the two of them had not been alone together once. It was not a particular wish of hers to do so either, considering that he must harbour quite a remarkable hatred for her, for she was responsible for him having taken over from her and Alasdair as the most avoided Kingsman candidate. By this time, the others had developed an aversion towards having to interact with him. Outside training noone ever talked to him anymore. He, though, didn't seek talks with anybody as well, as if attempting to seem like he wouldn't care anyhow. Or he just wanted to accept his defeat in dignity. Nevertheless, it _was_ a defeat, a heavy, heavy setback. Being dropped by all one's friends was surely difficult to endure...

No! Victoria would not pity him! He deserved to be avoided after all he'd done, after all he'd said. Besides, his defeat was her victory, was it not? All this time he'd had the others admire him, bolstering him up, whilst she had been completely on her own. Well, at least at the beginning, before her friendship with Alasdair.

_Speaking of the devil_... Another fluttering noise made her look up.

Even from a distance, Victoria spotted the grin behind Alasdair's helmet visor while he was floating down, which, again, conjured one on her own.

Their life had just been in danger, death had already waved at them, figurativley speaking, and her friend just laughed at him! In general, Victoria could count the times he had been geniunely serious in their almost six months here on the fingers of one hand. He's been through so much in his short life: his mother's decease, the bullying throught his entire educational career, and, first and foremost, being raised by a man who apparently had absolutely no interest in being his father... And still he approached life with such vitality, with such joy! For that Victoria admired him beyond measure.

The momentum made him run out over the big white Kingsman symbol, right towards her. When he came to a stand in front of her, his helmet already taken off, she shook her head at him.

"We could have died and still you grin like a cheshire cat?"

Alasdair laughed. "Nooo, we couldn't have died. We had us, remember? You would have held me if I had been the one without parachute. Yes, you would have had to endure quite a force when your own opened - How many Newton would that be? - the sudden stop aaaand..." He paused and frowned . "Hm, that would have been an enormous force..." Then he grimaced and laughed again. "Oh, wow, you probably wouldn't have been able to hold me! I _could_ have died!"

"And that prospect delights you?"

"Now that I'm standing here on solid ground, save and unscathed, mmmh, yes, yes, it does delight me."

A sudden scream made them break off the conversation. Farther away two other candidates - judging from the sound of the scream Victoria identified one of them as Bill, which meant that the other one had to be Alexander, the one he'd teamed up with in falling - crashed on the ground, not too hard to severely get injured, but hard enough to make both of them groan as they got on all forth.

"Still,", Alasdair spoke up, giving her a wink. "if one of us had been the one, we two beauties would have turned in a far more graceful crash landing, for certain."

As soon as all candidates had arrived, they already formed a line to greet the approaching Merlin in the usual formal manner.

"Congratulations, you all made it to the ground safely.", he announced, though, he didn't make it sound like that was an actual achievement. By Kingsman standards it certainly wasn't for some of them, as Victoria knew, and that was what Merlin was addressing now straight away. "Bill. Alexander. You opened too soon. You were all over the radar."

_And then there were four. _Of course, Victoria didn't rejoice over anyone having to leave here, not to the extent _they_ had rejoiced over every single mistake she'd commited at the beginning of their training at least. However, feeling a certain relief was only natural, since the other's failure brought her closer to her own success.

"Hugo, Alasdair. You don't land in the K, you're not in the K. All four of you, pack your bags and go home."

Victoria stopped.

Doing everything.

She stopped feeling relieved, she stopped standing at ease, she stopped thinking straight. The only thing she was able to do was staring at Merlin and wonder if she just misheard.

"Victoria, Albert. Well done for completing another task. With that, I believe even more congratulations are in order: You two are in the finals. Fall out.", Merlin kept announcing, though, Victoria was incapable of digesting a word he said before she hadn't understood what _the hell just happened!_

Hugo, yes, he'd nearly had an unpleasant encounter with the manor houses' wall, so much had he not been 'in the K', but Alasdair? He'd landed right next to her! _Within _the circle! Indeed, she had paid more attention to his face than his feet, but... but... could it be true?

"Wait! Sir, hold on for a second!", Alasdair's voice made her mind snap back to reality.

As ordered, the others had already set out for the dormitory, though, now some of them began to walk more slowly, curious about what was going on.

Alasdair, not having moved an inch from his spot, was ashen and wore the same shocked and incredulous expression Victoria's own features were most likely occupied by as well.

"What do you mean I didn't land in the K? I did, I did land in the K!"

"Unfortunately, that's not correct. You landed a little more than a foot outside the markings."

"A foot?! I'm booted out because of one foot?!"

The blond boy spoke fast, suggesting that he was scared. Or angry. Or both.

Merlin, on the other hand, was perfectly calm, simply regarded Alasdair with one of his gazes over the rim of his glasses, before, suddenly, his eyes set on Victoria.

"What are you waiting for, Victoria? I gave you the order to leave. I will not repeat myself."

For just the blink of an eye, she remained stunned. Then, the next moment, she shifted to military mode, straightened her shoulders, nodded and turned to go as well. However, she couldn't help shooting Alasdair a glance in doing so, one, so she hoped, would not turn out as fearful as she felt now.

* * *

"Pleasure to meet you once again." Harry sat straight and extended his paw to her in a manner that surpassed most human's capacity of good manners. "You are such a gentleman.", Victoria praised him as they 'shook hands', smiling, despite the fact that she actually didn't feel like smiling at all. The evening breeze blowing gently around Kingsman manor did cool her overheated head down a bit, but the fact that she was probably not even allowed being here gave every rising tranquility a bittersweet taste. It was better than being in the dormitory, though.

All those boys packing... All those faces full of disappointment... It'd been too much. She'd panicked - only internally, of course - had given Harry on her bed the sign to follow her and rushed outside to fill her lungs with fresh air. Why she'd chosen this place in particular, the houses' main entrance, she wasn't sure about herself. Perhaps she was expecting Merlin to turn up here, so that she could ask him about the outcome of his argument with Alasdair. Or perhaps she was expecting the blond boy himself. However, him turning up at the entrance door would already provide her with an answer, wouldn't it? One she definitely wouldn't like.

She didn't want Alasdair to leave. Who was she supposed to talk to then, to laugh and to train with? Yes, it was not certain yet that he actually had to go, but... if it was true that he hadn't landed within the markings, Merlin's decision _would_ be justified. And why would their instructor lie about that?

Victoria sighed, rubbing her temples with closed eyes. Only when a whimpering Harry pawed her knee, she lifted her lids again.

"At least we'd still have each other, huh?", she whispered, scratching behind his ears, which suddenly pricked when the quiet sound of steps reached them.

Victoria quickly stood. Her heart made a leap when she spotted blond hair behind the windows of the entrance door, however, it sank as soon as Alasdair walked through it. Theodora was with him. And, in his left hand, his packed holdall, which he put down when he stood in front of her.

Victoria looked up at him, her face lugubrious. She didn't know what to say. Luckily, after a short pause where he probably also tried to figure out what the right words would be for that particular situation, Alasdair took over.

"_A foot is a foot._", he imitated Merlin's voice. His truly masterful impersonations would make her laugh, as always, but the circumstances prevented her from doing so. Even the sad smile Alasdair wore now couldn't change a thing about that.

"So... You're out.", she finally found her voice again, though only barely.

He nodded. "Merlin actually seemed a wee bit grieved either. Said I was one of the biggest surprises he ever had during his years as instructor. My progress was remarkable. But apparently still not great enough."

Once again, Victoria struggled for words. "Alasdair...", she murmured, but the blond one cut in.

"He offered me an other job." His tone was almost casual. "He praised my intellect, said Kingsman could definitely make good use of somebody as intelligent as I am, you know, in the coordination sector. He would want me as some sort of assistant to him."

It took a moment for her to digest what she'd just heard, before a wide smile spread on her lips. "That's fantastic! You would be so perfect fo-"

"I declined the offer."

Slowly, the corners of her mouth turned downwards and she frowned in confusion. "What?"

Alasdair put his hands into his trouser pockets, sternly avoided her look. "After talking to Merlin, he let me call my father. I actually didn't want to but... he would hear about it anyway, so why not tell him from my persepctive. So... I told him what happened. Guess what he said." His eyes finally met hers, though now Victoria wished they wouldn't have. There was just too much pain in them. "He said 'Alright. I send someone to pick you up.' That was it. Nothing more.

"You know, I expected anger. I expected disappointment, particularly disappointment. But... he was neither the one nor the other. He-" Alasdair interrupted himself with a laugh that bore absolutely no spark of happiness. Quite the opposite: tears welled up in his eyes. "He wasn't even surprised! He... He's _expected_ me to fail. If he was a gambler, he would have bet _against_ me! _My own father_!"

Now too heavy for being kept in, the tears rolled down his blushed cheeks, which gave the rage his face was distorted with an additional tone of despair. "After all I've achieved, after all those efforts months over months this bloody _bastard_ never believed in me! He probably didn't even _want_ me to land the job, because then he may feel a little less superior to me and of course that's unacceptable!" As if he'd just noticed himself crying, Alasdair frowned, wiped the back of his hand over his cheeks and looked at the wetness on it in disgust.

It was a bizarre spectacle. Bizarre and utterly heartbreaking.

How could Alasdair's father meet him, his own son, with such indifference? How could he not support him, his own flesh and blood? No child should ever be neglected in such a way. Yes, Alasdair was no child anymore, but still, he was his _father's_ child! And he should be grateful for that fact, since Alasdair was a true gem. He was kind, funny and plain brilliant and that without being raised properly by the man who was actually supposed to love his child, his only child, unconditionally, which, evidently, he failed to do. Alasdair didn't deserve any of that. And Victoria hoped dearly that he was aware of that, since she herself was not capable of uttering a single word at the moment. All she could do was standing there and watch her friend try desperately to regain his composure.

"Anyway... That's the reason why I didn't accept Merlin's offer.", he eventually brought out way more calmly than before. "I... I don't want any of this anymore. I've got better things to do than constantly having to prove myself in areas which I'm usually not that interested in."

Victoria nodded. Finally, she found the strength to speak again - albeit quietly: "You already proved enough, Alasdair. You would have made a more than worthy Kingsman."

He didn't reply, simply eyed her.

Even before he directed his look behind her, Victoria had already sensed the car approaching them.

It was a grey Rolls Royce with tinted windows which came to a smooth stand right in front of the staircase they were standing at. The man who descended from it now wore a likewise grey suit and appeared to be in his sixties. Victoria quickly recognised him as a servant, probably that nice butler Herbert Alasdair had mentioned several times, judging from how his appearance managed to conjure a small smirk on the boy's lips now.

"Hey, Herb. Long time no see."

"Indeed, Master Alasdair." The man gave her a nod. "Good evening, Miss."

"Good evening."

Again he turned towards her friend. "Are you ready to go home, Sir?"

"Home...", Alasdair murmured bitterly. Then more loudly, he answered: "Just a second."

His eyes locked with Victoria's once more, sending a twinge to her stomach. The moment to say good bye had come.

"Well...", Alasdair said, biting his bottom lip.

"Well..."

Victoria was still not really in the mood for smiles, yet she decided to put one on now, in hopes to cheer her friend up a little thereby.

And it worked. Alasdair smiled back at her, not full of sadness or sarcasm. No, it was a genuine, joyful smile, one of the kind that had raised Victoria's spirits so many times in the past.

Enfolding him in her arms, she sighed heavily. "Don't let anybody, including your father, get you down, alright? You are amazing just the way you are and if he doesn't see that he's thick as two short planks. Promise me to do your own thing. Be... be Indiana Jones or Batman or whoever you want! You can do it! You can do what you want! You are bright and strong enough for everything!"

He laughed into her hair. "Alright, I promise. But you have to do me a favour as well." They moved apart, so that Alasdair could pierce her with his intensive look again. "Win this thing. Boot Albert out of the competition with a kick he'll never forget."

Victoria paused for a moment, just kept looking at him who supported her with all his heart. Then she nodded. "I'll do my best."

A bark drew their attention to the ground, where Theodora and Harry seemed to carry out their own farewell ritual consisting of various versions of jumping on top of each other.

"I should go now, before Harry burries her under his weight.", Alasdair noted in an amused tone.

Victoria pushed him away from herself with a faked offended expression. "Are you saying my dog is fat?!"

Once again he laughed, slightly tautening the greyhound's leash to signal her to get ready to leave as he got too. "Please, call me when you're finished here."

Victoria nodded once more and watched him collect his holdall. For a second, he seemed to hesitate, then he took a deep breath and walked down the stairs towards the car. Herb, his butler, accepted the luggage and opened one of the vehicle's doors for Alasdair, through which Theodora quickly climbed inside at the sign of the latter. He was just about to get in too, when something hit Victoria.

"Wait!", she shouted, making him stop in he movement. Swiftly, she took the walkman out of her trouser pocket and ran down to hand it to him. "I almost forgot I still had it. Sorry."

However, the blond boy made no move to reach for it, merely offered Victoria another small smile.

"Keep it.", he said. "You already used it more often than me anyhow. Besides, you are going to need it more than I do. I can buy a new one, after all."

"But... that's your favourite tape in there! You told me it took hours to conplete it. No, Alasdair, I absolutely appreciate it, but I can't accep-"

"Keep. It." With one hand he gently pushed hers with the walkman in it towards herself. "It's the least I can do for you for all you did for me." For the last time he gave her a broad smile. "Bye for now." And with that he climbed into the car. Herb closed the door and got behind the wheel again.

Victoria stayed where she was, gazing after the grey Rolls Royce her friend was now leaving her in, while Harry next to her began to mirror her mood with a howl. Not before the car had disappeared from her sight completely did she leave her spot, returned to the dormitory, clutching the walkman. All the way down her thoughts were still revolving around Alasdair and all the words passed between them. She just couldn't concentrate on anything else. How would she? She had just lost her last remaining ally, her one true friend here. Yes, she would see him again, but in the meantime both of them would have to be on their own. Alasdair... he would have to deal with his father's indifference thoroughly without aid or backing...

When she eventually entered the dormitory again, the thoughts on her friend were suddenly replaced by some of an entirely different matter.

There was no fuss in here anymore. All the beds in here were empty, except for one, the one Albert was lying in, absorbed in a book.

And that was when realisation hit her, when Merlin's words finally got through to her: "_You two are in the finals._"


	26. All Over Again

_**Author's Note: Juuuust wanted to tell you how much I want to hug you all for reading and reviewing this story! *BEAR HUG O-O***_

_**Please enjoy, Ladies and Gentlemen, you probably have no idea how amazing you are to me . !**_

* * *

**All Over Again**

"_Please don't take it so badly..._"

Having her eyes fixed on Harry's head on her stomach, the song took the words right out of Victoria's mouth. Its weight actually made it more difficult to breathe, however, if he found comfort in that position, then Victoria definitely wouldn't deny it to him. After all, she understood his gloom all too well. It'd only been a few hours since they had left, but the dog already missed his animal friend, and Victoria missed her human one.

Alasdair had made such exceptional progress. And then he had to leave because of this minor mistake. Perhaps it was better this way, though. If he'd beaten Albert to getting into the finals, the two of them, Victoria and Alasdair, would have had to stop fighting along each other from then on, and start fighting _against_ each other. Yes, they certainly would have found a way to not make their friendship suffer by that, but still... If Victoria had succeeded then, she would have been responsible for all the sorrow he'd have to face at home then. All the sorrow he had to face at home _now_.

Victoria closed her eyes, struggled in vain to concentrate on _Freebird_'s guitar sounds blasting away as she turned the volume up even more. The images of the tears streaming down a despairing Alasdair's cheeks wouldn't leave her mind.

At the beginning of her training, she'd been dreaming of coming this far and now it was actually happening. She was one of the finalists among the Kingsman candidates. She had exceeded all expectations, had outdone all those who'd deemed her unsuitable for this job. However, as much as she'd longed for this moment, she couldn't enjoy it one bit with those dark thoughts not stopping to haunt her. Inconvenient, most inconvenient.

Victoria sighed and took the headphones off. Listening to music only increased her being in the doldrums, particularly since it was Alasdair's walkman that provided her with it, the one he'd given to her as a gift. So, she now stowed it away, out of eyesight, and looked around the largely empty dormitory room. It seemed so much more spacious now that her and Albert were the only ones left here.

The dark-haired boy had stopped reading a while ago and, oddly enough, had been staring up at the ceiling ever since, making Victoria wonder what may be buzzing around in this head of his. Perhaps he was poring over what was awaiting them in the finals. Or perhaps he was also simply feeling lonely, just like her. He might have felt this way for quite some time, ever after Victoria had made his friends turn their backs on him.

One brow slightly raised, Victoria averted her gaze from him.

No, Albert was not the type for lamenting the loss of his popularity. The possibility that he was concucting a plan to put her out of contention was by far higher than him sharing her loneliness. He was an egomaniac, and he would always stay an egomaniac. He didn't deserve this post as she did. Yes, he was talented, and, yes, it would be extremely difficult to outdo _him_, but Victoria remained confident. She had worked so much harder to get here than he had. And she would certainly not rest on her laurels now.

As if destiny wanted to test that statement of her mind, the dormitory door suddenly opened and Merlin stepped in. Immediately, Albert and Victoria stood, already about to rush to the middle of the room to stand in line as they used to do, however, their instructor stopped them from doing so with a short "At ease."

The two Kingsman candidates exchanged a glance and slowly sat down at the foot of their beds again.

"You thought we'd already be done for today, huh?", Merlin asked. "Well, we're not."

Both of them he handed a thin beige envelope. The data within consisted of a picture of a tall building, which Victoria recognised as one of London's skyline, and two groundplans, assumingly to some of the building's storeys, whereon one room was circled in red.

"This is the apartment of a quite prestigious family. A family that has recently been involved in some dubious business. Your mission for tonight is to break into this red-circled study and retrieve any information proving said involvement, bank account statements, contracts, anything you consider important."

"Is the family home?", Albert asked, studying the groundplan in his hands.

"Part of it. The pride of the family, to be precise, a certain Robert, or Bobby, as he apparently likes to be called. He's also the key to getting into the apartment in the first place, since today happens to be his twenty first brithday. The celebration starts at nine. Which technique you make use of to get in is entirely up to you. However, you have to maintain a low profile. You must not attract attention. Is your mission clear?"

Another look was exchanged between the two. Then they nodded.

* * *

"To the party?"

"Is that so obvious?", Albert replied the slightly obese man at the counter with a grin Victoria knew was fake. In public he always pretended to be so sociable. She wasn't sure whether she should find that annoying or hilarous.

The lift they ascended now was one of the modern yet elegant kind. Brightly polished floor, golden light from above, some oriental patterns on the walls. No mirror. Though, Victoria didn't need one anyway. She knew exactly how stunning she looked. And about time she did too!

How long had it been that she'd worn makeup and high heels? Although she certainly hadn't looked as hideous as she'd done at the beginning of the training - due to her constant exhaustion - for the last few months, it simply wasn't the same as actually being styled. At first Victoria had feared that wearing a tight dress like this wouldn't exactly flatter her figure, after all her body had assumed a more athletic shape now, but no. Her appearance was as neat as ever, if not more desirable than before. Finally seeing herself like this again - dark long hair in a fashionable pinned updo, simple but elegant eye makeup, while the lips were just as red as her cocktail dress - had conjured a wide smile on her face, which still hadn't left.

"I'd suggest we use NLP on Bobby to get in.", Albert spoke up in his usual monotonous manner, as soon as the elevator doors had closed. Apparently, the fact that he got to dress to the nines as well, if only in a rather casual style - he was wearing a medium blue suit jacket combined with black trousers and a light blue shirt - didn't have such an exhilarant effect on him as it had on her. "He might have a security guard too. We have to be quick or he'll grow suspicious."

"Leave that to me.", Victoria said, still smiling. "Just play along."

From the corner of her eyes she saw Albert give her a frown, which vanished instantly when the lift halted and the doors opened.

The interior to the two-storey apartment was just as modern yet classic as the elevator itself, just as the two men standing at the entrance door, whereby the term 'man' actually only seemed to apply to the one with the clipboard in his hands - the security guard. The boy standing next to him was rather short and slim. His hectic, seemingly nervous gestures gave him an additional touch of infantility. However, he was allowed to act childish today. He was Bobby the birthday boy, after all.

"Bobby!", Victoria practically squeaked and already rushed forward, kissing both of Bobby's cheeks. "It's been ages since I've got to see you last time!" Playfully she hit his chest. "Where have you been hiding?"

By his utterly baffled expression, it became obvious how hard he was just trying to pin her and Albert down, the latter just walking up to them with a grin. The bodyguard seemed to have noticed his confusion as well. Victoria had to hurry.

"You have shorter hair than last time.", she continued in a surprised tone upon spotting two short hair on his shoulder.

Bobby, finally slipping off his daze, smiled hesitantly. "Oh, yes, I got a haircut today."

Victoria smirked. "Getting all dressed up for the big day, huh?"

Her counterpart looked to the ground, laughed awkwardly. Sometimes twisting young men around her finger was just too easy. But for challenge they still had the bodyguard, who evidently didn't fall for her charms.

"Names?", the tall, broad-shouldered man grunted, almost snarled at her.

Victoria didn't let him baffle her one bit. In the most diva way possible, she arched a brow at him, stemmed one hand into her hip and said: "Pardon?"

Sensing her good mood vanish, which apparently was not what he was aiming for, Bobby quickly stepped in. "Er, no, it's okay. She's on the list. She's on the list."

Letting the smiles return she, again, hit him. "Of course, I'm on the list! How could you ever forget me!" Then her face adopted more appologetic features. "Oh, but I hope it's alright that I brought my brother with me! - Georgey, this is Bobby, Bobby, Georgey - He's probably not on the list, but-"

"No, no, it's alright, it's alright!" Bobby sounded as if being about to choke on all the air he was inhaling due to the nervousness she caused in him. "Just... Just have fun!"

Victoria tilted her head to the side, gave the young man a mixture of grateful and seductive smile. "You are such a darling, Bobby." She leaned forward, gave him another kiss on the cheek. "Happy birthday, lovely.", she whispered into his ear, signalled Albert to follow her and strolled through the entrance behind Bobby and thereby right into turmoil.

The music was blasting through the living room that rather resembled a club now that a large part of its furniture had been removed. Young people were dancing and drinking, enjoying themselves, while Victoria had a look around, scanning the environment. On the way into the city she had studied the groundplans, had internalised every room, every corner, until she knew this apartment in and out, which was why it took her barely a second to spot the broad corridor leading to the staircase to the second floor at the far left of the room.

"Got it.", Albert and her said simultaneously and already headed towards it.

"VICTORIA!"

They stopped dead in their tracks. Victoria swung around in the direction where the high-pitched voice had called her from. Five girls where standing in a group in the corner, their eyes fixed on her. One of them was beckoning her over with the brightest and most annoying smile on her heavily made-up face. Penelope Dandridge, one of Victoria's former 'friends'.

Victoria put a smile on too - a hopefully less irritating one.

"Go ahead. I'll catch up in a minute...", she whispered to Albert, who just nodded and proceeded.

Gracefully, Victoria wound through the crowd, directly into the arms of the short young woman with the vexing beam. "Victoriaaaaa! Oh. My. Gooooodness. How long has it been?!"

Victoria gently wriggled herself out of the hug. "Too long.", she said. _Not long enough_, she thought. Each of the others she greeted with two implied kisses on the cheeks, and all of them were giving her a wide fake smile, except the last one - Alana - who met her with the same coolness she used to meet all people with. It wasn't the kind of aloof behaviour Albert displayed usually, though, no, it was more the condescending kind, the 'I'm better than you'-kind. A bad habit she'd inherited from her pretentious parents Victoria had had the 'pleasure' to meet during one of her mother's dinner parties. However, said parents had recently been in the spotlight for the miscalculations in their business and, therefore, for losing a remarkable amount of money, of which Victoria hid her knowledge, of course. It'd be impolite to confront her with it and she wouldn't stoop to Alana's level.

"How are you?", one of the others - Victoria knew her face, but not with the best will in the world could she remember the name - asked, but before she could answer a still overexcited Penelope cut in.

"We heard about your accident!" There was just too much compassion in her voice to be authentic and she rubbed Victoria's upper arm, which made the situation even more absurd. "Awful! Simply awful! We tried to call, but apparently noone was home."

"Yes, and we didn't know which hospital you were in!", another one of the group said, her eyes almost plopping out of her head, so much did she widen them in order to convince her of her sincerity.

All of it were straight lies, though. Nobody had called and nobody had even tried to visit her, Victoria knew that for sure. But, naturally, they lied to not come across as bad friends, which, actually, was totally unnecessary. Victoria didn't see them as friends anymore. She had in the past, indeed, although even back then she hadn't been as naive as to believe that any of those girls would ever go to length for her. Nevertheless she had called them friends because she hadn't really gotten any better ones. However, that had changed when she'd met Alasdair. He'd been a friend, a true one. They? Acquaintances, prospectively of the past, since as soon as Victoria had landed this job, she would see to never surround herself with fake friends again. As a Kingsman she definitely wouldn't have the time to deal with this kind of nonsense anyway.

While she was making this mental note of crossing each of the girls in front of her from her list of acquaintances in the near future, she kept smiling, swept away their 'concerns' with a wave of her hand. "Don't worry, it wasn't that bad. Being in intensive care for a few days does have its advantages, actually, particularly since there are all those handsome doctors attending to you."

The girls giggled. Victoria seized the moment to peek over to where Albert just vanished in the corridor. He didn't look out for her. Victoria had to speed this up a little to not let him get all the credit for himself.

There Penelope spoke up again: "Speaking of handsome: Who's the young man you're here with?"

"Oh, you mean George? He's my cousin. First time in London, which is why I probably should go back to-"

"How's your 'acting career'?", Alana interrupted her rudely, nipping on the drink in her hand. Apparently, Victoria's former career aspiration amused her, for a smirk now appeared on her earlier stoney expression. Victoria had already counted on receiving a sideswipe from her. She'd mocked her life choices in the past, and, as it seems, she saw no reason to stop with that now after not seeing her for more than half a year. She was still her old bitch-self. Why Victoria had ever spent time with her remained a mystery to her. "Did it finally get you out of this... waitress job?"

It took all of Victoria's emotional strength to maintain the smile on her red lips. "I was a receptionist in a five star Hotel and I was working there out of free will not because I needed the money. But you know that already, of course. And actually I gave the job up after the accident to concentrate on my acting and currently it's going just fine, thank you for asking." She began speaking in a syrupy voice: "How are your parents by the way?"

Penelope seemed to sense the tension, so she quickly changed the topic: "Victoria, I looove your dress! Who designed it? Oh, let me guess! Uuuuuuh... Dior?"

"Versace.", Victoria answered slightly impatiently, her eyes directed at the corridor she should be walking down already.

"Guess mine. Guess mine!", Penelope insisted however.

"I don't have to guess, I know what it is."

Alana let a grunt loose. It was an astonishingly ugly sound. "Hasn't shown her face in public in almost a year and still plays Ms Know-It-All. It's a miracle the postman actually found the cave you hid in to bring you the invitation to the party."

Victoria averted her gaze from the corridor to look directly into Alana's eyes. The others were chewing their lips to conceal a laugh - some of them didn't succeed in that - as if what the mean girl had just said was actually funny.

After considering giving Alana a sample of what she'd learnt at Kingsman, Victoria found it best to not use violence. Too much attention-catching. Instead she quickly looked from one of the girls to the other: "Galliano, McQueen, McQueen, Chanel," Again her eyes met Alana's. "and no clue what this is supposed to be, but it's definitely not haute couture. Now please excuse me, ladies, I need to see how my cousin's doing."

With that she spun on her heel and weaved her way through the crowd once more. She didn't turn to see the anger in Alana's face, she didn't need to, she was better than that. Knowing that the girl was fuming - and she most definitely was with all those sideswipes against her newly achieved poverty - satisfied her enough. Besides, she had more important matters to attend to.

It was only about 11 pm and there were already a handful of couples - or probably rather bowing acquaintances - making out in the secluded corridor. Victoria didn't pay them any attention, just walked past them, and, naturally, they didn't pay _her_ any attention as she climbed up the stairs.

The music's beat from downstairs made the floor in the long narrow corridor she now entered vibrate a little, but it was siginificantly quieter here. There were no couples lounging about here, no people at all, since nothing was to be reckoned interesting here. The few doors lining up the two walls were most probably all locked... except one.

It was a tad more difficult to proceed soundlessly in high heels than in the shoes she normally wore at Kingsman, but Victoria managed to do so nonetheless. Almost silently she sneaked forward to the study behind the forth door on the left, which Albert must already have been disappeared into.

_He better not be already finished searching_, it crossed her mind and she damned Penelope and the others for restraining her from work. Merlin would certainly not be pleased with her upon hearing how she'd let herself get distracted. He wasn't connected with them for this mission, so he would have no idea how difficult it was to get rid of those girls. Judging from how strict he'd been with that one foot Alasdair'd made too much, this small mistake of hers would surely make their instructor send her home.

In case Albert was already finished searching, which Victoria doubted, though. After all, it must have taken a bit of time to open the door and, actually, she hadn't spent too much time with her fake friends. Therefore, there was still hope.

Closer and closer she got, moving through the dark like a cat. The door to the study standing ajar made her arch a brow. Yes, there weren't any people here anyway, but still it was a bit careless of Albert to leave it open for her. She raised her hand to gently push it open and sneak in.

Suddenly she stopped in the movement.

This smell... so faint it could have been just her imagination playing a trick on her. It had been there for just a moment. And still it made her hesitate, tense up.

The smell had been sweet... sweet and... strangely familiar...

Victoria's eyes widened.

Chloroform. There was chloroform somewhere behind that door. Some_one_ was probably waiting in there, waiting for her and Albert to sedate both of-

Albert. Had he run into the trap already? The door must have been unlocked before, otherwise the intruder couldn't have been gotten in. Perhaps this had made the dark-haired boy suspicious. Perhaps he'd turned to talk to her about it. Perhaps he hadn't. Perhaps he was lying in there, sedated, under the feet of whoever had awaited them.

But how could anyone know about their mission? Kingsman was a more than secret service, its existence only known by members of it. Maybe someone found out, or... or there was a mole in the organisation.

Victoria frowned, thrusted all those paranoid thoughts aside and concentrated.

The most probable explanation was that Bobby's father was aware that soon his dodgy dealings would get him in trouble and so he'd hired somebody to make sure his secrets within the study would be kept safe. Most probable was also that he'd caught Albert. Nevertheless, Victoria turned around now, silently walking back the way she'd come from earlier.

In case Albert _had_ escaped he'd be somewhere downstairs, trying to warn her. If she found him, they could work out a plan to avoid the trap. If not... she'd have to face whatever was within the study alone, retrieve the information Merlin wanted and rescue Albert. Whoever was in there surely didn't count on _Kingsman agents_ coming after him or her. It'd be easy to checkmate the intruder. Yes, yes, it would.

Keeping her focus on this positivity, she became faster and she hastened down the stairs, through the short corridor of lovers and, again, into the party.

She let her eyes shoot over the mass of people, scanning for Albert, but it was difficult with so many people in one space. She started to cut a way through the crowd again, always watching out for dark-haired boy. However, she couldn't detect him anywhere. He must be in there, in the study.

Her heart pounded faster in her chest.

_They_ had him.

She cursed, turned around again and suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her arm, followed by a wave of warmth.

"You're really smart, but I'm smarter.", the man who'd rammed the syringe into her practically shouted into her ear so that she could hear him over the music's beat and her own hammering pulse.

Victoria tried to squirm free from his tight grip, but her body was already going limp. She tried to scream, but the music was drowning out all the desperate noises escaping her throat. All she could do was fall, fall into the arms of this stranger, fall into darkness all over again.


	27. Princess Goes Dragon

_**Author's Note: Just wanted to tell you that even if this chap's pretty short I so enjoyed writing it, particularly because of all those parallels to a previous one. For me, even as the author of the story, it's so interesting to see what has changed in her character throughout the last months and what not :)**_

**_Now please enjoy, Ladies and Gentlemen, and keep reviewing!_**

* * *

**Princess Goes Dragon**

It felt like a fading dream.

Colourful lights were dancing on a dark background, far away noises came and went and a pleasant breeze stroked over her cheek like a feather... Only the lack of actual images before her eyes eventually convinced Victoria that she wasn't asleep after all.

Groaning, she lifted her way too heavy lids. At first, everything was blurry, remained the colourful spots on black. Then they assumed shape, the shape of streets and buildings... _beneath_ her.

Victoria started with fright, tried to back away to solid ground, but there she noticed that she was tied to a chair which, to her dismay, stood on its two back legs solely, right at the edge of the high building she found herself on. Only a taut rope kept it from tilting backwards, kept _her_ from falling 300 feet to her death... a rope the man in front of her now held a knife to.

"Welcome back, princess!", he said, a sneer occupying his largely unattractive features.

Victoria remembered him, remembered what had happened now: She'd been on a mission. The party... this man had sedated her right amongst the dancing crowd. Still... It didn't really explain her current plight.

"Who are you? What's going on here?", she asked breathlessly.

"What's going on?" His grin grew even wider. "I'm going to kill you, that's what's going on!" The razor sharp knife flashed in the moonlight as he pressed it against the rope.

"NO!", Victoria shrieked, her body suddenly on red alert. "No, don't kill me! Please, Sir, don't kill me!"

He kept the knife in place, his tone becoming a little sterner: "Well, I will, unless you tell me what the _fuck_ Kingsman is! And who is Harry Hart?"

Victoria quickly shook her head, acting all innocent. "I- I have no idea what you're talking about, Sir! Please, untie me!"

"Oh, Victoria, I just made your friend leave a big ugly red stain on the pavement down there after the same fuCKING ANSWER!"

Automatically, she tried to turn around, check if he was right, but the zipties around her wrists and ankles prevented her from moving too much. When the chair suddenly jerked back she jumped with fright and her eyes widened when she saw the knife cutting into the rope.

"NO! God, no! I swear, I do not know anything about a Harry Hart or this... this... what was it called?"

"Don't mess with me, princess!", he roared and pointed the knife at her, while the half cut rope groaned with her weight. It wouldn't last long anymore.

Panic rose within Victoria, made her body tremble and her thoughts racing.

This man would kill her. He would bloody_ kill her_! What was she supposed to do now?! All that hard training and she just couldn't come up with any ideas! She couldn't free herself from the zipties, no matter how hard she tried, and, it seemed, she couldn't persuade him of having no connection to Kingsman at all either! Speaking of which: Where the hell _was_ Kingsman?! Victoria couldn't assess how long she'd been unconscious, but shouldn't there already be one or two agents to help?! After all, Merlin must know by now that something went wrong! And if they actually were on their way... they were taking far too much time. This man had already killed Albert, at least he claimed so, and, goddammit, Victoria believed him. He'd killed Albert and was going to kill her too if noone came to stop him or if she didn't tell him what he wanted... So... Perhaps she should. Yes, perhaps she could stall him until she came up with a plan, give him just enough information to please him, though, not enough to cause actual-

No. NO! How could she even think about that?! _Any_ information would endanger Kingsman! Of course, Victoria had absolutely no desire to die, but it would be worth it. She'd keep this man and whoever he was working for from doing damage to Kingsman, or at least defer it, buy Galahad and the others time to prepare. She had to protect Kingsman, even if they were letting her down now, on purpose or not. This organisation had saved so many lives over the years including hers, so she had to shield it from harm with all she had and all she had that moment _was_ her life.

Yet again, Victoria found herself prioritising. And she was already so sick of it.

This mission could have gone so smoothly, but no, this minger had to destroy _everything_! Hell, he made her choose her own death over betraying an organisation she wasn't even a member of yet! Oh, what she wouldn't give to be able to break free from this chair and see his sneer fade as she snatched the knife from his hand and _cut his bloody throat_!

Rage seethed within her like boiling water and yet again she tried to slip her hands through the zipties or break them. Nothing worked, which only fuelled her anger.

"I'll count to three now and if I haven't received an answer by then, you're gonna join the bloody mess down there, you hear me?! One... Two-"

"Oh my God, are you DEAF?!", she suddenly blurt out, making the man give her a curious look. "How often do I have to repeat myself until it finds its way into your tiny brain: I. Do. Not. Know. What you are talking about! Is that clear now? Yeeees? THEN UNTIE ME ALREADY, YOU RETARDED LITTLE SH-"

The stranger cut the rope and Victoria screamed as the chair was yanked back. It was suddenly stopped by his foot slammed down right next to her thighs, he leant in, grabbing her jaw violently, so that she had to direct her widened eyes at his face which was only a few inches away from hers now.

"Last chance, princess!", he hissed. "Answer me or die! Is Kingsman really worth dying for?"

That's when she spat in his face.

The man grunted, kicked the chair away and then she fell, fell and fell...

... about 2 metres deep right onto something soft yet solid.

A mattress. Victoria had landed on a mattress.

For a moment she just kept staring up into the starry night sky, her heart pounding so fast and heavily, it almost made her sick. Then she inclined her head forward, looked past her legs into the grinning face of her mentor.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she sighed deeply and grimaced. "Oh, please don't tell me I just spat in a collegue's face."

"And quite a gob too!", came the voice of the stranger from above, followed by a laugh, which didn't lessen her embarrassment one bit.

"My goodness, I am _so_ sorry!" A chuckle reached her and she shot a glare at Galahad. "Oh, you wipe that grin from your face right now, this is unacceptable behaviour, delighting in a lady's misery, and I will not tolerate this kind of incivili-" Her sentence remained unfinished as she burst into laughter herself, part of embarrassment, part of relief, part of actual joy.

She'd succeeded in another one of Kingsman's tests. _And_ she wouldn't end up being spread all over the pavement down there... What a wonderful day!

Still grinning, Galahad squatted down next to her and cut the zipties in such a skilled manner that she almost wouldn't notice it, particularly as she was still giggling to herself.

"Blimey, your tests are insane. Kingsman is insane! You're lucky I'm apparently twisted enough to enjoy this kind of insanity.", she sniggered. "Who came up with this task anyhow? Let me guess: Merlin."

"Actually, it was his idea, the one's you defiled so rudely."

"I apologised!"

"Which does not make it any less disgusting."

Again, she scowled at him as he helped her stand up in hopes that that would keep her from blushing all over and quickly changed the topic: "How did Albert do?"

Since it turned out to be exceedingly difficult to walk over that mattress on high heels, Galahad kept holding her hands as he guided her back into the building, speaking: "He passed as well. However, his trial was by far not as amusing as yours..."

Victoria shook her head and he chuckled.

He led her down some dark corridors until they reached a lonely door at the end of one of them. After her eyes had been exposed to darkness mostly for... what? Hours? Victoria had no clue how much time had passed since the party - the light streaming out of the room now that Galahad held the door open for her made her blink. It took her a moment to adapt, take in her surroundings. It looked like some modern kind of study, with screens on the wall and all that, just like the one Merlin had back at Kingsman's headquarters. The one she'd believed him to be at the entire time, however, as he now stood in front of her, visibly suppressing a smirk himself, she knew about his actual whereabouts. Next to him, at a little distance, stood Albert - given that he'd just encountered the same extremely stressful situation she had, he looked rather calm, slightly worn out, but composed - and beside him a tall dark-haired man she had never seen before and who appeared just as stoic as he did. His mentor, obviously.

"Good job, Victoria.", Merlin said, his straight lips eventually cracking a grin after all.

She arched a brow at the mocking undertone in his voice, though, didn't say anything in return, simply stood next to Albert with Galahad at her side.

Merlin took a short moment to regain his composure, then shot each of the two Kingsmen a look. "Galahad, Bedivere, congratulations. Both your candidates have reached the final stage of the testing process. As tradition allows, you now have 24 hours to spend with them."

It demanded a great deal of Victoria to act professional and not give Galahad a radiant smile, especially since her heart had made a leap at those news. There was just so much she still had to ask him, so much she wanted him to show her about Kingsman and the like... She would definitely use those 24 hours well.

"From now on,", Merlin continued, a certain earnestness taking over now that he directed his look at the two candidates. "there are no safety nets, understood?"

Both Victoria and Albert hesitated to reply - merely a second, but still - and exchanged a glance. What had just been an act up there on the roof of the building, could become reality from now on. From now on there won't be any mission simulations anymore, no... There would be actual missions. Missions they could die in. Missions they must not allow themselves any mistakes in. Missions... that will decide who of the two was the true Kingsman.

They turned to Merlin again and nodded.


	28. Kingsman's Home

_**Author's Note: Since a new semestre in university starts next week, it might take a bit to update, but don't worry, dearies, I won't forget about this wonderful story (particularly now that the real fun is so close :P)**_

**_Please enjoy, Ladies and Gentlemen, and keep making me smile with your reviews! :))))_**

* * *

**Kingsman's Home**

After having dozed off in the taxi a couple of times, the vitalising scent she was met with upon crossing the threshold slapped her awake again. She'd rather expected relaxing odours prevailing in the Kingsman's home - lavender, anise or some sort of piney fragrance - since that would most likely be the effect one needed most to achieve after such nerve-racking experiences that were so commonplace for a secret agent. Her expectations notwithstanding, Victoria was glad about the invigorating surprise.

"Mm...", she uttered smiling. "Orange."

Galahad, closing the door behind her, looked rather surprised than pleased. "The charlady must have run out of lavender."

Victoria frowned at him. "Must have? Haven't you been here today yet?"

"I haven't been in London for about a week."

"Exciting mission?", she asked smirking and turned her back on him so that he could take her coat.

"Not exactly." Disappointment sounded in his reply. Then amusement took over once again. "Albeit a mere simulation, yours was by far more entertaining."

Victoria didn't answer him, just let him hang up her coat, whilst she focused on taking her surroundings in. At the first blush she gained from the anteroom, the Kingsman's home appeared to fall in the category of small but mighty. A winding staircase right next to the entrance took most of the short corridor's space, there were a few doors on its right end and on its left Victoria glimpsed a dining room and a kitchen. Her first impression eventually proved to be true when she strode further in to the living room straight ahead.

The walls, which were kept in the same pastel tones as the vestibule's, were largely covered by various pieces of furniture. On the right there was a mahogany commode, a wooden globe standing on it, its northern hemisphere being flipped open to reveal a bottle of fine whisky and proper glasses in it. Next to it was a vintage record player contrasting the high-tech stereo in the long shelf behind a beige couch on the other side of the room, which dozens of records and CDs leant against. Apparently, however, Galahad neither favoured one particular genre nor did he linger over sorting in any way, as Victoria spotted names like _Led Zeppelin, J. Brahms_ and _Queen_ right next to each other. A library ladder submitted access to the topmost of the many books and various other objects in it, which, as Victoria could imagine, would be given a wonderfully mysterious touch as soon as the fireplace under the TV opposite to it was lit and casting dancing lights on them. It was traditional yet not old-fashioned. Very similar to her own home, actually. Victoria felt comfortable in almost an instant.

Holding her clutch bag at her front, Victoria looked around, drank in even more details of the room as she spoke: "So this is what a Kingsman's home looks like..."

Galahad appeared at the doorframe, leisurely leaning against it and having a look around himself. "Some of us have a rather extravagant style while I'm more the practical type. I considered owning a too spacious home unnecessary given that I'm away most of the time anyway. Therefore the rather spartan style."

She laughed buoyantly."Don't worry, after sharing a very poorly furnished dormitory with 8 boys for half a year, my perception of a spartan interior has changed monumentally. In fact, I find it superbly charming here." She nodded to herself when having one final look around as for confirmation. "Very cosy."

"I hope you'll find it just as cosy in the guestroom upstairs. You also have your own bathroom right next door."

By that statement Galahad earnt another beam from her. "Oh, splendid! I'm so in need of taking a shower!"

"Understandably so.", he said, smiling himself. "But before you do so I have to ask you something:" Smirking, he suddenly produced two flyers from behind his back. "Chinese or Italian?"

Victoria raised one brow, gave him a mixture of a questioning and an amused look.

"I usually cook myself, of course,", he explained. "but since I have just arrived and I'm now too jetlagged to do so, we'll have to resort to other opportunities."

She nodded, then thought for a moment. "Hm... We've been served only the healthiest and protein-richest of meals for more than six months and I have to admit I already got used to it..." A broad smile spread over her red lips. "But blast 'healthy', I'd like pizza."

Galahad grinned back and shot the green-red flyer a glance. "Capricciosa?"

"One of my favourites. How did you know?"

"I guessed. Besides, it goes wonderfully with the sicilian wine I purchased recently."

He showed her up the stairs to the guest room he'd mentioned earlier. It was a rather small room, kept in the same classic style as the entire house seems to be designed in. A wardrobe right next to the door as tall as almost touching the ceiling occupied about a quarter of the room, two nightstands were on the left and in between them, which educed a delighted sigh from her, a bed, large and soft-looking, similar to her own at home. Indeed, the one at Kingsman had fulfilled its purpose, still it had been a major change as she'd not been used to being provided with only such little space for moving in her sleep, as much as such a hard mattress. Of course, both had been intentionally prepared like that to even increase the candidate's psychic strain by means of sleep deprivation. Naturally, though, everybody including Victoria had lowered their standards after the first few weeks in training and slept on it like a log as well. Nevertheless, in the back of her mind, Victoria had always missed the convenience of sleeping truly comfortable and with a content smile she embraced the fact that she most definitely would tonight. To cap it all the desk, which together with a chair fulfilled the essential demands on the room's furnishings, was carrying her suitcase she'd left in the dormitory, providing her with proper night garment.

After Galahad had told her which of the remaining doors in the short corridor led to the bathroom, he went downstairs again to order their food, leaving the entire upper floor to her.

Alone time. Something Victoria'd had a serious lack of recently. All the more she enjoyed it now. Without a hurry she rummaged about her belongings in the suitcase, deciding on something to wear for dinner, something she hadn't had the opportunity to wear for what felt like ages, ever since she'd been handed with her training clothes. She eventually chose a casual long-sleeved wrap dress that wouldn't require much glamming up. She went to the bathroom with it - an elegant, sparkling clean symphony of gold and white - put it on a hook on the door and, after thinking about it for a moment, decided against taking a shower. Instead, she ran herself a bath.

Leisurely, Victoria took off her high heels - one of the best feelings in the world, she reckoned - stripped off her dress and her underwear and, with a heavy sigh, she stepped into the tub. Deep relaxation spread within her and the exertions at the day, together with all the sweat stress had left on her, were washed away.

* * *

It was a rich, persistent flavour, yet smooth and with the fruity aromas of raspberry, strawberry and even a hint of violet that instantly conjured a smile on Victoria's lips and made her sigh. _Cerasuolo di Vittoria_ read the bottle's label. Victoria wasn't sure whether it was only due to her involuntarily long-lasting renouncement of beverages of that sorts or if it really was that delicious, but, whatever it may be, it relaxed her enormously.

"I figured you'd like that one.", Galahad said, visibly delighting in her joy. "Most women rather fancy white or rosé wines. Ever since you ordered that Highland Park, however, I reckoned your taste different from the common one."

She swallowed another piece of pizza - her counterpart had been right: the wine did go exceedingly well with this dish - before replying with a smile: "In terms of taste I rather come after my father."

"Not only in terms of taste, it seems. Touring the world, preferably on foot, helping with smuggling relief supplies to civilians into war zones... One might say your father is a daredevil."

Victoria didn't bother giving him a questioning look. Self-evidently, Kingsman, or rather Galahad himself, had had her entire background checked before admitting her to this programme. "Indeed, he his.", she said. "One of the very few in my family. In fact, I cannot recall _any_ Norwoods with a comparable thirst for adventure. The Davies' are more like it, though, this trait being so marked as it is in my father is also rare with them. But, well, as alone as he'd been with his distinct vigour in the past, he now_ had_ rubbed off on me, that's true." She sighed. "I wonder how he'd react if he knew what I am doing here..." Before Galahad even had the chance to dart any kind of look at her, she added: "He'll never know, of course. I actually puzzled my head over how I'm going to conceal my occupation as a Kingsman agent from my family and I came to the conclusion that it'd be best to tell them that I _do_ work for Kingsman." Victoria appreciated that Galahad didn't raise his voice in alarm right away or anything similarly brusque. He simply maintained his neutral mask, let her continue before judging. "As a saleswoman. I inherited a sure sense for fashion from my mother and it wouldn't be too surprising to her and the others if I started carving out a career in that area. Also, it would explain my frequent absence due to all those business trips connected with such a profession."

"What about injuries, however?", Galahad interposed as soon as she signalled that she'd finished with another nip on her wine. "If you really become the new Kingsman, you must be aware that missions will leave marks from time to time."

"No problem either. I'll just tell them that I took up fighting training in order to be able to defend myself properly in case anything bad happens during my business trips. It'll be easy to make them believe that after what happened to me last year."

"Seems to be a well-wrought plan..."

There was a hint of gloom in his voice which made Victoria look up from her pizza. Galahad was eyeing his own glass of wine, running two fingers over the edge of its base in a thoughtful manner.

"Well-wrought, but not perfect in your opinion, as it seems.", she said, making him lock eyes with her again.

"You appear to have a good relationship with your family. And that's wonderful... but I regret to tell you that it'd be advisable to distance yourself from them. You don't have to abandon them entirely, at least not at once - that would raise suspicion - however, a strong connection to family can and will cause problems, not only to yourself but to them as well. It's for the safety of both of you."

For a moment Victoria just maintained the intense eye contact, incapable of moving. Then she took a deep breath, picked her wine up and downed it in one - not without glorying in its marvellous taste, of course, anything else should be a considered a criminal act. When she faced Galahad again, his face disclosed a certain tornness between giving her an apologetic look and an amused one.

"Yes, I already apprehended something of the kind.", she eventually brought out in a firm voice. "Don't worry. I will heed your advice."

Galahad nodded, reached for the bottle and stood. "Care for a refill?"

Victoria smiled broadly. "By all means!", she said with a sigh, feeling the tension in the air easing fortunately. Now that she could finally spend some time with her mentor, she certainly didn't want the mood to dampen, particularly not so soon.

"Speaking of heeding my advice...", he began sitting down again. "I understand that you tried to reconcile with your former colleagues."

She grimaced. "Tried, yes. Succeed, sadly no."

"You did earn yourself a nickname, though."

"Indeed' I did..."

"What? Do you not think 'The Hound' has a ring to it?"

"Well, if you display it that way, yes, it does. But it feels more like an insult than a compliment nonetheless. Just imagine, there's a woman exceptionally fast and graceful, just like a horse from a prestige stud. You wouldn't give her the nickname 'The Horse', would you? Victoria 'The Horse' Norwood, for instance. Doesn't sound too chivalrous."

"I see what you mean. It's all about connotation. Not many people have negative associations with hounds, though. Of which are you thinking about?"

"Subordination, bloodthirst..."

"Well, normally hounds are perceived as loyal creatures with remarkable skills. Your companion of choice, for instance, is a skilled hunter as well, as I was told."

"True." The mention of Harry made a proud smile spread across her lips. "Harry's hunting instinct came in handy several times throughout the training. I once didn't even have to put on night-vision goggles to find the others! I just followed him."

"It seems the cliché of dogs resembling their owners confirms with you two. Not in physical appearance, obviously, but in the matter of certain abilities. Otherwise..." His face adopted slight curious features, giving away that he was about to ask her something. "... I can't explain how you possibly could have known that someone was in that study tonight. How did you do it exactly? It couldn't have been a sound he made, could it? He's known for being absolutely silent."

"I didn't exactly know about him." She shrugged as if what she'd done wasn't to be considered an achievement. "I smelled the chloroform. It was a faint smell, admittedly, but for me at least it was there."

Galahad frowned. "How do you know what chloroform - Oh.", he interrupted himself, apparently just remembering what state he'd found her in when they'd first met. It was adorable to watch.

With a smirk, Victoria replied: "Olfactory trauma, I guess."

"That night's events... aren't being too much of a trauma, I hope?" There was caution in his voice, as if talking to a timid fawn.

"None at all!", Victoria dispelled his concerns chuckling. "I rather view them as the reason that brought me here, to my dream job... Which I still have many questions to."

Galahad, being all relaxed again, smiled lightly. "Naturally. However, I would ask you to bear with me and get down to them tomorrow. It's been a long day for both of us."

"True..." Gazing at the drink in her hand, Victoria's mind ran through all the exertions of the day backwards: The test on the roof, the party, Alasdair's departure, sky-diving -

Alasdair.

Involuntarily, Victoria's mind set on her friend's face, the tears which had rolled down bis cheeks, his despair... Before she could stop herself from doing so she spoke up: "Pardon me this one question, but do you discuss private matters with your colleagues as well?"

Galahad straightened his shoulders, visibly taken aback. "Only those I am friends with."

"And do you happen to be friends with Horace Whitehall?", she asked as casually as possible, focussing on cutting the remains of her pizza in two bite-sized pieces, but judging from how he fixed his eyes on her now, Galahad seemed to see right through her.

Softly, he asked: "You're wondering how Alasdair is doing, aren't you?"

"Of course I am.", she answered in a whisper, not being capable of a louder tone with the lump that had formed in her throat. She didn't meet Galahad's gaze,_ couldn't_ in fear of seeing something in his face that would give away bad news, simply kept on eating, while sensing him looking daggers into her.

"I'm sorry.", he finally spoke up again. "I do not have any information about his wellbeing, but... I assume he's fine. From all I know he's a brilliant mind, and his kind tends to not dwell on their defeats."

Victoria nodded, lapsed into silence once again.

"Are you alright, Victoria?", Galahad interrupted her train of thought after a moment had passed.

She considered if she should tell him what had just crossed her mind. Eventually she opt for it: "I just remembered what Alasdair made me promise today."

"What did he make you promise?"

Victoria looked up, the tiniest of smiles on her lips. "To win this contest and become the new Kingsman."

Galahad's face lit up again. "And I presume you are someone who never breaks a promise?"

"You presume correctly."

"Albert is a remarkable candidate though...", he said raising his brows.

"And I do not underestimate him like he used to do with me. He is an exceptional fighter, a shrewd head and usually he is also a natural leader. However, he has one problem that will make him lose."

"And what would that be?"

She leant back, nipping on her glass of wine. "He isn't me."

"You know, pride goes before a fall."

"Big results require big ambitions." Victoria intensified her gaze. "I have worked so hard to make it here. Losing now is no option. And regarding Albert, well, there are only the few words Alasdair used to say, or rather sing, occuring to me: Don't stop me now."

With that Galahad's neutral mask vanished completely. A smile spread over his face, a broad one, a proud one, and raised his glass to her with a "Cheers."


	29. Measurements

_**Author's Note: I'm so sorry it took me so long to update! University's really keeping me busy :/ **__**Aaaanyway, hello to the new followers of this story (of course, HELLO to our long-time ones as well, it's good to be baaack *cuddles you way too hard, but doesn't care, sorry not sorry*)! :D **_

_**Please do enjoy, Ladies and Gentlemen, and don't forget to review! They form the sweetest kind of motivation boost :)))**_

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**Measurements**

"So, this was your first mission, then?" Victoria pointed at the cover in the far right corner of the wall, the one with Diana's and Prince Charles' kiss on the balcony on the cover.

"It was.", Galahad confirmed. "Foiled the assassination of Margaret Thatcher."

She gave him an appreciating nod and, taking a sip from the cup of tea in her hands, let her eyes wander on. The entire wall was plastered with front pages of The Sun magazine, all of which bearing the Kingsman's missions in remembrance. 'Reminders' he'd called them when he'd shown her into his study right after breakfast. Of course, Victoria had known about his stunning abilities beforehand, but she had to admit that even so she hadn't expected the Kingsman to have participated in so many operations, his first solo-trip having successfully accomplished 18 years ago! It was so surreal: While Victoria had only been learning multiplication tables, Galahad had already been saving lives. His rather juvenile aura - even more prominent now that he was wearing a casual shirt and no glasses - sometimes veiled the fact that her mentor _was_ an immensely experienced secret agent.

Her attention was eventually caught by another headline. "Werewolf seized in Southend: He fights cops on all fours..."

Galahad inclined his head a little. "Would have been far more entertaining than busting a drug ring in South-Africa."

"I think I understand now why you chose such a pulpy magazine instead of something more prestigeous. In a way it is amusing to see what ordinary people seem to consider important compared to what's actually going on around them without them taking notice of it." She sighed. "But, honestly, it's also a tad annoying. They rather read about actors' everyday lives or random bunglers who managed to hit the headlines with their own stupidity than people who risk their lives to improve theirs. So mundane..."

"Well, those 'ordinary people' are the ones you're sworn to protect as a Kingsman. They're not worth less saving."

Brusquely, Victoria turned her head to him. "That's not what I was implying. I don't believe myself to be better than others just because I was born into a certain social position. Unlike others I never took anything I have for granted and don't deem anybody without such amenities beneath me."

The way he straightened his shoulders, Galahad looked genuinely taken aback by her sudden sharpness. "I apologise. It wasn't my intention to insult you.", he assured calmly.

She smiled again, which eased the tension between them at once. "Nevermind. It_ was_ poorly phrased, easy to be misunderstood. What I meant was that it's a pity that most people don't appreciate people fighting for them to the extent they deserve, whether those are soldiers, Human rights activists or Kingsmen. If this was a fair world, you and all your colleagues would constantly occupy the headlines, not... that."

"Well, first and foremost, we are gentlemen-" He glimpsed at her. "-and one lady, perhaps..."

"... and a gentleman's name should appear in the newspaper only three times: When he is born, when he marries and when he dies.", she ended his sentence knowingly. "My mother tried to din that into my fathers brain several times in the past, back then when they were still married, due to his tendency of attracting attention just for fun. Needless to say her lecturing didn't have the slightest effect on his behaviour."

Galahad chuckled. Victoria gave him a smirk and started to stroll around the room again.

As casual as she moved, she was looking for something specific, though. Something which had crossed her mind the second her mentor had explained these covers' purpose to her. Her eyes scanned the walls, sucked in the printed details... There.

Victoria stopped, focused on one particular front page. The headline was about something trivial. Probably. She didn't pay any attention to it. All that mattered was the date: _December 4th, 1998_

"I figured you would want to see that one.", she heard Galahad say behind her.

Victoria kept staring at it, the magazine released after the night that had changed her life, the night she'd been kidnapped by irish terrorists and rescued by a Kingsman.

Her voice sounded hollow as she raised it eventually: "It's funny actually... I used to desire being one of those celebrities hitting the headlines... But then_ this _happened and everything changed. I don't want to be famous any more." She shrugged, lifting the cup up to her smirking mouth once again. "Now I just want to become a world-saving secret agent. Easy peasy." She swallowed the delicious hot bevarage and sighed. "You know what? I think, I'll also get myself such a collection."

"You want to copy my idea? I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that."

She pursed her lips. "Well, don't you worry, I for one have too high standards to stoop to spend my money on such rags anyway-"

"Rude."

"-I rather considered collecting other sorts of souveniers, items connected to the case, perhaps, belongings of people involved or something of the kind."

"The scalps of your enemies?" He was still wearing his neutral expression, though, amusement was clearly discernable in his voice.

"First of all: Yuck. And secondly: Do I look like someone who does that?"

Galahad raised his brows. "Well, when you're angry, yes, you do in a way."

"Hm.", Victoria muttered in a surprised yet delighted fashion. "Why, thank you, I'll take it as a compliment. I always feared I would be too pretty to be intimidating. Speaking of pretty." She smiled brightly at her mentor. "What am I supposed to wear today?"

The way he was not one bit perplexed by this question told her that he identified her actual intention behind it: Finding out what they were going to do today.

"Casual clothes. No active wear necessary."

Victoria kept looking at him for a moment, eager to detect any kind of hint on his plans for today, but his mask of neutrality prevented her from doing so. Thus, she just put on another smile and set off to the guestroom.

* * *

"On average-"

"Oh dear."

"What?", Victoria said, frowning at Galahad. Or at least she tried. She had difficulty facing him when holding onto his arm. As they were walking down Savile Row, he was shielding them both with his umbrella from the early autumn showers which repeatedly disrupted an otherwise mild and sunny day.

"There is no 'average' in the profession of Kingsmen.", he explained.

"But you don't even know what I was about to ask!"

"Alright. Go ahead. But be warned: Your question is most likely to be impossible to answer."

Victoria held her head high in triumph and started all over again: "On average-"

"Mmh..."

"ON AVERAGE-", she talked over her mentor who evidently enjoyed irritating her way too much. "-how many missions is a Kingsman assigned to in a year?"

"Impossible to answer.", his reply came like a shot, which he reaped another glare for. "A mission's length varies greatly. Sometimes, if there's only slow progress made in one, it may overlap with others. There are too many factors to consider to be able to give you a satisfactory reply."

"Hm, I see. Perhaps this one's easier to respond to: How many times have you been close to dying? I'm not referring to instances where you've been in great danger - obviously those would be far too numerous - but when you've been fatally injured." Galahad kept his eyes straight ahead, visibly brooding, which made Victoria raise her brows. "Really? So many?"

He turned to her. "I believed you were aware of the risks a Kingsman has to face."

"I am, but judging from what little I know about you, you might be an adrenaline junkie and have just not been cautious enough.", she said smirking, as he held the door to the Kingsman shop open for her.

Right with the first steps she took into the old-fashioned tailor shop a warm sensation of comfort and gratefulness overcame her. Here, within these rooms with its wood-panelled walls and the various pieces of clothing displayed on tables and in showcases, Galahad had told her about Kingsman - the intelligence agency, that is, not the tailor's shop - for the very first time. '_I am more than sure_.', she'd declared upon him asking whether she was really sure if she wanted to become his candidate. Oh, back then she'd been so unskilled, so inexperienced, so naive... And now she was one of them, a Kingsman. Well, on the cusp of being one anyway.

"Good morning, Miss."

Victoria tore her eyes away from the chimney on the left side of the room to meet those of an elderly gentleman behind the counter, the one she'd met the first time she'd set foot into this establishment, back then on her hunt for Galahad. The man had been marvellously courteous, genuinely eager to help, which was why she now greeted him with the brightest smile of her repertory and rushed forward to join hands with him.

"Good morning, Sir! It's wonderful to see you again!"

"You too, Miss, you are too kind. I presume you are here for your first Kingsman suit?"

"Now you spoiled the surprise.", Galahad said behind her.

Victoria inclined her head, giving him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, but to me it became obvious when we turned into Savile Row."

Fortunately, Galahad didn't seem irritated in the slightest. "Never doubted your quick-wittedness."

"To be honest I was already looking forward to this moment for quite a while now.", she said smiling widely at both of them. "After all, what would a knight be without his armour. And then such a delicate one like a Kingsman suit..."

"Pleased to hear that. I understand since you've already made use of the term 'armour', you figured that Kingsman suits are always bulletproof?"

"I guessed so, yes."

"Then it only remains for me to add that you might hurry up a little in choosing the right colours and patterns, if you please. We are pursuing a tight schedule today, you know?"

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that. I pictured myself acting in the name of Kingsman so often, I have an exact idea what my outfit ought to look like."

The elderly man nodded, smiling, and called: "Richard!"

Almost in an instant the door to their right swung open, revealing a boy with a measuring tape around his neck, a tailor's apprentice who appeared approximately around the age of 16 of looks, but much older, much more authoritarian of posture and overall behaviour, similar to Albert.

"Yes, Sir?", he asked, his shoulders straight and his head held high.

"Miss Davies-Norwood here needs her measurements taken."

Richard shot her a glance, seemingly confused - after all, Kingsman is specialised on men's wear - however, only for a split second, because then he simply nodded. "My pleasure. Would you please step into the fitting room, Miss?"

Victoria was about to approach the door-holding boy, when suddenly the door opposite him opened as well, making her freeze as she saw who emerged from it.

"Galahad.", Arthur greeted her mentor with a nod.

Before he even had the chance to turn to her, Victoria already stepped forward and extended her hand, wearing the brightest fake smile she had in store. "Good morning, Arthur!"

He smiled back. Victoria rated it as equally fake. "Good morning, Miss Norwood. Having your measurements taken?"

"Yes, indeed! It's one of hopefully many surprises of today's activites. First the Kingsman suit, then..."

She looked at Galahad who just raised a brow. "Lovely attempt, but I still won't tell you."

She rolled her eyes while Arther chuckled - in a very forced fashion, notabene. "Well, don't let me keep you." He joined hands with her once more, saying: "I wish you a pleasant day, Miss Norwood." And with that he left, together with Victoria's smile.

* * *

_What a pillock_, she said to herself over and over again as she kept recalling the brief conversation with Arthur. She and Galahad were just on their way to some secret location - he refused to tell her where they were going despite her pouting in the most lady like way possible - but her mind denied her any other thoughts than those of this unpleasing encounter.

Absolutely no trace of shame had been detectable in his face, no intention to utter an apology, for he _had_ been the first one here to reject her, had called her efforts to make contact with Kingsman 'irritating'. Galahad had certainly been told off by him for making her his candidate... And now? She was one of the finalists, on the brink of becoming a Kingsman too! Arthur was supposed to be embarrassed by his former behaviour towards her, however, he didn't show any sign of that. Perhaps his pride was a bar to addressing his chagrin openly, making it be beyond question to meet Victoria with the due deference.

When they passed a traffic signalling that they were heading out of London, she finally got rid of the thoughts on the impolite organisation's head.

"This mysterious place you take me to is outside the city?"

Galahad merely nodded, probably to avoid letting any piece of information about their destination slip accidently. Or, which was highly unlikely, he just wanted to concentrate on traffic. Victoria had only seen him drive himself once, though, that had been a completely different situation. It's been an actual chase at high speed involving bullets only barely missing the two of them. Now, he was as cool as a cucumber, his fingers thrumming the rhythm of 'Fortunate Son' sounding from the radio... It was absurd yet entertaining.

Victoria smirked and turned to look out of the window again.

They'd been driving for about half an hour when her smile got taken over by a frown. They were leaving the b roads, following dubious paths into a forest. And it was slightly going up now. A hill. They were approaching a hill.

Something clicked in Victoria's head. She exchanged a look with Galahad which clearly confirmed her suspicion.

After a sharp turn of the narrow road they were on now, Galahad made the car come to a halt. He didn't get out, waited for Victoria to do so first. Normally, this kind of behaviour would be very atypical for him, not holding the door open for her, but this was different. He would give her as much time as she needed and, indeed, she did need some time.

For a short while she kept staring straight ahead. Then, finally, she got out of the car.

At the edges of the road was a thin carpet of leaves of the most vibrant autumn colours and the wet asphalt itself sparkled, just like last time she'd been here, save that that night it hadn't sparkled from sunlight, but from headlights shining on shards of smashed car windows. Back then Victoria would have never deemed it possible to find this place peaceful, actually inviting. Back then... she'd just prayed to make it out of here alive.

Over the twittering of birds she heard Galahad approaching her. With all her own memories floating in her head Victoria almost forgot that he had had a near-death experience here as well. If chills were sent down his spine too at the sight of this scene?

"I thought this would be a good place to celebrate your astonishing progress at. After all it is the place that 'brought you to your dream job'.", he quoted her in his usual neutral manner.

A smile spread over Victoria's face, which turned into an actual laugh when she spotted something glisten on the ground. "Look! Whoever cleaned up here has obviously been not too thorough. I bet we could find evidence of that bald man's presence back then in the woods as well, maybe pieces of his broken bones."

"You seem to delight in his injuries."

"Of course, I do. Who wouldn't? This man planned on doing unspeakable things to me."

"So, if you had the chance, would you have killed him too?"

Victoria froze.

It cost her quite an effort to turn to her mentor, who now looked awfully stern.

"I know that you would die for Kingsman,", he continued his gaze piercing through her. "which is noble... but would you _kill_ people for it as well? And before you say yes right away, let me remind you that on a mission there's usually no time to assess your opponents' character. They may have families who love them, may only be involved in whatever incident you are investiganting by chance... And you still have to do it. You still must not hesitate. Otherwise the consequences are tremendously severe. Not only for you. It is indeed easier when encountering people like those who kept you hostage, but not entirely easy. Killing is never easy. It _will_ mark you. So..." He intensified his look even further. "Are you _really_ prepared for that?"

For almost an eternity, Victoria remained silent.

She turned her eyes away from Galahad's, directed them into the forest. Even on such a lovely day like this it was dark in there. Suiting her mood right now.

"Don't you presume that I only kept myself busy with the glamorous side of this profession.", she forced herself to breathe. Every single word she uttered hurt her, but she had to give voice to them. "I _have_ bothered myself about this aspect, and yes, I _have_ doubted my own abilities and morals thereby. You read over phrases like 'eliminate the target' in Merlin's examinations and don't give it a second thought, since if you did you would realise that those are merely euphemisms for 'be this person's murderer'. Admittedly, I was appalled by the thought of... killing, and still am... However..." Once again, she locked eyes with the Kingsman, giving him just as much of a stern look he'd given her just moments before. "... my 'technique' of prioritising does not only work in one direction. For the greater good I wouldn't only sacrifice myself... I would sacrifice others too. As horrible as it sounds..." Victoria swallowed hard, closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "But that's the point, isn't it? That's what distinguishes us from the ordinary good person: We may have the same goal of making the world a better place, but while they are not, we are prepared to do for it what's _necessary_." Victoria sighed. "No matter how terrible it is...And it is. It is immensely terrible. But _we_ take on the burden... To save the rest."

Once more, silence spread between them.

A light breeze blowing around them gave Victoria a chill, making her wrap her coat - the very same she'd been wearing here once before - closer around her body. However, she knew the wind wasn't entirely to blame for the sudden cold running through her veins now. It came from within as well, from her soul.

In order to make her dream come true and become a Kingsman agent, Victoria would have to murder people. Bad people normally, indeed, but still human beings. But that wasn't what scared her the most... What actually made her blood run cold was the way she didn't _care_. She would shoot enemies without batting an eye. She could justify it as much as she wanted, but it wouldn't lose any of its wrongness. Perhaps, however, this cold, this fear she felt for herself was the sign of her being a good person nonetheless... or that might just be wishful thinking.

"Yes,", Galahad interrupted her thoughts abruptly. "I also think you are ready." His expression looked a lot calmer now. In a way, it even supported her, gave her the feeling of being understood.

A moment long, one that felt like an eternity, they kept their eyes locked, until Victoria felt strong enough to put this topic out of her mind and say weakly, yet more joyfully than before: "I would like to go up the hill and see the house they've kept me in. Or rather what's left of it after you've accomplished your mission. I do recall you stating that we have 'missed out on a lovely explosion'?"

The smallest of smirks spread over Galahad's face now. "Certainly. And afterwards I will teach you how to drive a car the way I did that night."

Victoria let out a hearty laugh, before she already got going, copying her mentor's mischievous expression. "I wasn't too wrong in reckoning you as an adrenaline junkie, was I?"


	30. Cold As Hell

_**Author's Note: HELLO LOVELIES! I know, it's taking me like forever to update, but I think I worked out how to manage my time properly now, so perhaps updates are gonna follow up earlier. Or not. I dunno yet. And I'm deeply sorry!**_

_**Just one more thing: I strongly recommend listening to the song mentioned in this chap, from where it's actually mentioned (somewhere at the bottom), to the very end of this chap. I got chills when I did that ^^ Love this song**_

_**So enjoy, Ladies and Gentlemen, and please keep reviewing!**_

* * *

**Cold As Hell**

They were staring at each other, none of them deigning to blink, none of them deigning to move. Then, all of a sudden, Victoria crouched down nonetheless. Her opponent got in a starting position as well. Taking one last deep breath she gathered all her energy. And then, like an arrow being let go, she shot ahead.

Her legs worked as perfectly like a machine, moved faster than she'd ever have imagined before her training at Kingsman... and still she was no match for_ him_. Soon Harry whooshed past her, his paws creating sounds that resembled a psychadelic drum solo everytime they came in touch with the floor. In fact they carried him at such a speed that he barely made it to slow down in front of the wall at the end of the corridor. Victoria burst out laughing when she heard the confused noise he uttered upon bumping into the wood panelling prevailing everywhere within Kingsman manor.

She came to a stand next to him, huffing and puffing. "Well, now you know what Happens when you do not look forward while running." Then she crouched down, petting him: "But that doesn't make you less of a winner. Well, well done, Harry! I'm so proud of you!"

Harry squeezed his beautiful amber eyes shut at the touch, panting away contentedly.

"Now that you've proven an excellent physical fitness, how about showing some discipline?" Victoria stood again, arms akimbo. "First of all, have a seat, Harry."

And the Pointer sat. Victoria smiled triumphantly. "Your manners are remarkable, little gentleman. Speaking of good manners, when you are a participant in a race, it's common to shake hands with your fellow competitors afterwards.", she said, extending her hand, which Harry put his paw upon instantly.

"Wonderful! There's no way anyone would not be impressed by you, don't you think?"

With that she strutted down the corridor to her left, heading for the door at its very end... The door she knew one of her least favourite people was waiting behind. Arthur.

After the morning training session with her animal companion, Merlin had informed her that the intelligence's head wanted to speak to her promptly, thus she was obliged to bring Harry along as well. And, actually, she was glad about that. He was a perfect example of her competencies as both a teacher and a team player and around him she felt even more self-assured than she already did. Besides, if Arthur became abusive, there was still lovely 'attack'-command they'd rehearsed...

When she entered the room and saw Arthur rise from one of a pair of old-fashioned leather chairs in front of a chimney, she forced a smile to her face. _My acting classes do pay off eventually_, she thought when shaking hands with the elderly, yet athletic man. She was also a little mystified about the plastic tarp sticked to the floor underneath the chairs, but the conversation with her superior was still the centre of her attention.

"Victoria, good to see you so soon again.", he said friendly, then laughed as Harry extended his paw as well, immitating their behaviour. "Oh, I see you raised a little gentleman!"

"Well, I thought since he is involved in training exercises, he might as well fit into Kingsman entirely!"

As soon as he was done chuckling, he gestured to the chair next to Victoria. "Please, have a seat."

The two of them sat down opposite each other. Victoria doubted to get as comfortable in this kind of furniture as her opponent appeared to be. She refused to lean against the high backrest out of sheer preference for smaller ones and therefore sat in a quite upright position, with her legs crossed. Though, this was not the main reason for her uneasiness, no, it was Arthur's subtle smile that unsettled her. It just didn't seem genuine, sorting ill with his otherwise stony face.

"You called your civilised fellow here Harry, is that correct?"

It displeased her that this fact had gotten about, but she hid it with another cheerful expression. "Yes, I did. However, I do not exactly know how I came up with that name in the first place. Must have been that book Alasdair has been reading in the beginning of training, 'Harry'... 'Harry Pottery' or something similar.", she clarified right away. It was bad enough that she had to endure Galahad's and Merlin's mockery on that matter, she certainly didn't desire getting any from her highest superior, one she didn't like at all, on top of that.

Fortunately, he didn't dwell on the topic, merely nodded. "I called you here today to give something to you." Then he shifted in his seat, produced a gun and handed it to her. "It's live.", he said and paused once more. Then after letting some moments pass by, in which the feeling to ASK for further instructions already started to grow within Victoria, he gestured towards Harry sitting by her side. "Shoot the dog."

"What? What?! Are you joking? Or are you just plain crazy? No, you lunatic, I will _not _do anything like that, is that understood?!", was what Victoria wanted to bawl at Arthur, but she didn't. In fact, she didn't utter any sound, was paralysed by his words.

Why on earth was she supposed to shoot Harry? And why would she do that? He was the only animal she had ever built a connection to, her only friend left here... It must be a test. Another insane trial to prove herself loyal to Kingsman. But by shooting an innocent dog? No, it can't be. Kingsmen wouldn't do that, would they? Perhaps, Arthur just wanted to drive her into believing it was a test, while in reality he wanted to punish her for making her way into the organisation without his approval. Or, maybe, he _was_ joking. _Please, be joking_.

However, this option seemed highly unlikely, given the absolute serious expression he wore on his face... which was crossed by almost invisible impatience now. Reluctantly, Victoria tore her gaze from him and pointed the gun in her hand at Harry.

The white-brown dog inclined his head a bit as if expressing confusion. Then, from the barrel before him, he directed his amber eyes at her.

What was it Victoria spotted in them now? Was it... was it indignation? Disappointment? Were dogs actually able to feel? They must be, otherwise Victoria wouldn't have made it to bond with Harry in such a deep way... A bond she was on the verge of casting to the wind. Was she really about to kill an innocent being? For a _job_?

No. No, it was more than just a job. It was an obligation, a service to mankind. Perhaps this was why it was called a secret service. Nobody would ever come to know what sacrifices are made by members of the organisation... what sacrifices Victoria is about to make.

Wasn't it enough that she put her own life at risk for them? That she was ready to abandon her family? All for Kingsman, even though she wasn't even one of them yet. What torments would they expect her to suffer as soon as she was one? Galahad... He acted so secretive sometimes. What had Kingsman made _him_ do? Had he have to stand such a trial as well back then when he was a candidate? If so he probably would be madly disappointed in her in case she didn't pass. Passed up a golden opportunity... just for a dog... A dog which had grown dear to her heart. Of course, she didn't want to miss out on this absolutely amazing chance to Kingsman, nor did she want to make Galahad regret his decision to have chosen her as his candidate... But... but it was Harry... _her_ Harry...

Arthur inhaled slowly to say something, obviously irritated, but before he could do so Victoria murmured: "I'm so sorry."

Then she turned her head away and pulled the trigger.

The bang caused a ringing in her ears. Her head was spinning. She trembled. Victoria kept her eyes closed in order to not start crying. No, she wouldn't do that in front of this... this _monster_, wouldn't give him the satisfacion of seeing her in a weak state. Even though she did feel weak, weaker than ever before.

What had she done? She could choke Arthur, choke him to death! She could collapse and scream, scream, scream Harry's name over and over again...

Ad then there was scandalised sounding barking sounded.

Victoria opened her eyes wide, looked back down to the dog she had believed to have murdered. But there he stood, his tail stiff of anger and barking at her.

"HARRY!", Victoria cried out, fell to her knees and wrapped her shivering arms around the brown spotted animal. He did let loose a mixture of snarling and howling, but he allowed it nonetheless. He would forgive her, Victoria knew it. Her exceptionally intelligent dog realised what had happened and he would still forgive her.

„Congratulations,", she heard Arthur say over the noises oth she and her dog uttered. „You stood the test." Victoria wanted to punch him in the face, especially for the insolence of speaking in an almost bored tone, but she just smiled up at him. „Did you suspect them of being blanks?"

„No, Sir.", Victoria laughed. „Unfortunately not. I have to admit your poker face is utterly convincing."

As he dismissed her eventually, she thanked him and left the room immediately. All the way through the corridor they had come from earlier Harry acted grievously offended, walked a few feet ahead of her instead beside her as he normally. His behaviour did shower her with a load of guilt, though, Victoria couldn't help but wear a constant smile of relief, which fell when a bang rang out.

She froze and so did Harry. He turned around, looked at her. Victoria shook her head._ Not me_. But she could imagine who'd pulled the trigger.

They stood there, glued to the spot, waiting... Until Victoria's theory was confirmed. Albert and his dobermann stepped out of a door to their right, both looking as stoic as usual. However, when his and Victoria's eyes met, she could have sworn to detect a hint of nervousness in them. Nervousness which had already invaded her mind as well.

Yet again, they have both succeeded. And this trial had been significantly more difficult than the last. What would Kingsman have them do to finally determine a winner? What would Victoria be willing to do?

"_I'm not the man they think I am at home_", the lyrics of one of Alasdair's favourite songs 'Rocket Man' crossed her mind, leaving a bitter taste behind. Its melody would probably haunt her for the rest of the day.

Almost simultaneously her and Albert broke eye contact and set off in different directions. The rest of the day would be to their own disposal and Victoria certainly wouldn't rest on her laurels after this passed test. No, she had to train, prepare for what was to come.

She decided upon the firing range, where she forced herself to imagine those mannequins being actual people. '_You must not hesitate._', Galahad's voice resounded in her ears, so she shot one by one, each bullet hitting fictional heads and hearts, each bullet killing somebody. Harry's look of disappointment squeezing into her mind every now and then weren't helpful at all, though.

After several hours of training she went to have a shower and then back to the dormitory. Albert was already there, lying on his bed and staring up to the ceiling. His hair was just as wet as hers. She hadn't seen him since their encounter in the corridor, but she was positive that he'd spent his time training hard as well. He fought for this job, admittedly. But who would be the best one in the end?

Victoria lied down on her bed as well, her arms wrapped around Harry curling up next to her, and started gazing into space. The songs on Alasdair's walkman did their best to diminish this irritating nervousness still lingering in her head. It didn't work.

It was around 5:30 pm when suddenly the entrance door swung open. It was Merlin.

„The time has come, candidates.", he told them who instantly stood at attention at the sight of him. „You are going to attend your first real Kingsman mission."

Ten minutes later they jogged into the hangar in full combat dress. From afar Victoria made out Galahad's face, right next to the one of Albert's mentor Bedivere. Wearing the same black garments, they were standing at the foot of a private jet's airstair. It seemed they would lead the mission.

„We will give you the details in-flight.", Bedivere explained briefly and got in. Albert followed him right away. Victoria didn't, looked at Galahad instead. His features were as neutral as usual, but when he gave her a nod, the corners of her mouth eventually did find their way up and she ascended the airplane.

* * *

**_Author's Note: _joycelyn. :_ I both had to laugh and felt a bit anxious when reading your review to the last chapter xD I hope Victoria's decision didn't make her any less human to you, though :)_**


	31. Phase 1

**_Author's Note: Guuuuuess who's one of the best in class right now? :D I thought my essays were total crap, even though I practiced with fun titles like 'Discuss the advantages and disadvantages of being a Slytherin' (*cough* Slytherin forever *cough*) but turns out my teacher's so impressed, she gave my essay to my classmates as an example of a proper one. They probably hate me now but IDGAF :D And I got an A on my presentation, but only because the topic was _Language acquisition via fanfiction writing_ :P I showed them THIS ff as example bc it's probably one of my best XD And I would've never gotten there without YOU! Your support actually made me write this whole story! THANK YOU *smooch, realises you didn't want to get smooched, giggles awkwardly and disappears into the dark. Forever.*_**

**_Now please enjoy, Ladies and Gentlemen, and keep reviewing! _**

* * *

**Phase 1**

They called themselves "Kurticilar" - "Saviors" - but not by any stretch of the imagination could Victoria think of how killing civilains might save a single thing. Up to now the terrorist organisation had relied on ordinary firearms, however, they hadn't been particularly successful lately, had even decreased in number, so that they now saw themselves forced to rethink: Biological warfare. Switching to_ that_ would make them join the big players, give the group a new lease of life ... Well, not on Kingsman's watch.

Bedivere had kept an eye on them for quite a while now as it seemed and only recently had he been reported movement within the organisation, an uproar, since, apparently, they had finally been able to seal a deal with some unknown entity which would provide them with the desired biological weapons, a bomb named the Bull in this case Today.

The mission now was parted in two phases. Phase 1: Raid the convoy transporting the bomb, replace the latter with a dummy, capture the person responsible for the delivery (unscathed!) and disguise as his men. Phase 2: Force said man to carry out the handover as planned, while hacking into the organisation's computer system and downloading any information regarding the organisation that built the bomb, and get out of there without being uncovered.

It sounded simple, a long process, but a simple one. In case everything went according to schedule, naturally. There could indeed go many things wrong. Still, Victoria remained calm. It was almost scary how calm she was so close before the mission started. Though, she had to admit that her own practicality was not to blame for that alone, but that the environment definitely played a role in that too.

It was dark in this secluded part of the Taurus Mountains. There was only one road the convoy would be able to take to reach the 'Saviors'' hiding place and the two Kingsmen and their apprentices were waiting on a ledge right above it. The perfect place to start the ambush... and to stargaze.

Billions of white dots spangled the otherwise pitch-black sky, sparkled like glitter on a mourning dress - seemingly out of place, but immensely fascinating. They gave away the vastness of the cosmos and how small earth and its inhabitants were. Natural disasters, wars, Kingsman... all unimportant in the face of the universe. Sort of amusing actually.

"Captivating, isn't it?"

Victoria wanted to look up, but she didn't have to. Galahad sat down next to her, leaning against the same rock she did.

She smiled, directed her gaze back up to the stunning vault. "Indeed. I can't recall to have ever seen a night sky so rich with stars."

"Never?"

Victoria shook her head, even though she wasn't entirely sure if that was visible in the dark. "I've had the pleasure of travelling quite a lot in my childhood, but we've always been to places close to cities. Not even Kingsman manor, despite being not too affected by London's light pollution, had offered such a view. Alasdair used to show me the different constellations everytime we got to spend some time outside at night." She chuckled softly at the memory. "He's been babbling on about the various components they consisted of and their background stories for hours! But that extended knowledge did come in handy during nocturnal orienteering. I didn't have to bother taking my compass out once, since I merely needed the stars to find the way back."

"That's a very useful skill, indeed.", Galahad stated in an appreciating tone.

"Thank you. But here..." Victoria sighed. "... I can't even make out a single constellations within this mass off stars. But that makes it even more fascinating."

The Kingsman didn't reply to that, though Victoria sensed a smile on his face. Silence spread between them, not the kind that generated discomfort, but that which gave the feeling of mutual understanding. A pleasant, pleasing silence.

Still, Victoria broke it when a certain thought crossed her mind: "He wouldn't have been capable of doing it."

"Pardon?"

"Today - or actually yesterday? Time zones are so confusing - Merlin and Arthur prepared a special surprise for Albert and myself. A task. We... They odered us to..."

"Shoot your dog."

Now it was Victoria's turn to sound surprised. "You knew about it?"

"Every Kingsman candidate has to face this task."

"That means you passed the test too. I have never seen a dog around you, though." Her eyes widened. "Don't tell me you _really_ had to kill your dogs back in the days!"

"Back in the days...", he repeated in amusement. "How old do you think I am? No, of course it was blanks back then as well. My dog died of pancreatitis a few years ago."

"Oh... I'm sorry to hear that."

Victoria could see his silhouette shrug. "He's had a long and happy life."

"What was his name?"

"Mr Pickle. A border cross yorkshire terrier. You did almost make his acquaintance." Victoria frowned, failing to think of any detail concerning her mentor that might have escaped her notice, so she waited until he explained: "I had him taxidermied and now he's resting in the bathroom downstairs."

She blinked, smiling like before. "Help me, please, I can't decide: Am I supposed to find that sweet or disgusting?"

The two of them desperately tried to restrain their laughter, which made it even more hilarious. Only when Galahad raised his voice again did Victoria manage to stop chuckling, almost, at least.

"Who were you talking about earlier?", he asked, merriment still resounding in his voice.

"Hm?"

"You said 'He wouldn't have been capable of doing it.', of shooting the dog. Who were you referring to?"

For a moment, she kept silent, just looked to the black ground. Then quietly she said: "Alasdair. No doubt he's brilliant, a splendid shot, a quick fighter, determined, loyal... But he wouldn't be able to do it, to... kill." Again, she directed her eyes to the stars. "He's got a good heart. I'm not saying we don't, but... we are prepared to do what's necessary and he... Well, I think he would rather find a more diplomatic solution. Carried out correctly, both ways lead to peace, lead to good. And his way is definitely not Kingsman's... I'm glad he doesn't have to change now."

She could feel Galahad's eyes fixed on her. He didn't respond at all, but he was most obviously brooding over her words. Finally, she heard him take a breath and open his mouth to reply, but there both of them froze.

There was a noise, faint as it could be, but there nonetheless. A hum, a rattle, gradually growing louder.

Victoria and Galahad stood next to Bedivere and Albert in a matter of seconds, staring into the night. There, at quite some distance, four headlights, easy to be mistaken with the stars above as they were shining bright in the dark, if it weren't for them growing bigger with every metre they drew closer and closer. Immediately, the two Kingsmen and their students put on their helmets, turned on the communication sytsem within, and got into position, standing sideways at the rim of the ledge. Being first in the row - plus having the dummy bomb strapped to his back - Bedivere held his right hand up, which was only visible due to the digital watch around his wrist, showing a countdown of green glowing numbers now.

10

Victoria's calm crumbled away like the few tiny rock under her feet, giving way to excitement.

7

Adrenaline spread through her entire body, made her fingertips tingle.

4

_My first Kingsman mission begins._ Victoria smirked.

1

Bedivere rushed off, rapidly followed by the others. They ran alongside the edge, careful to not kick away too many stones in doing so, like shadows speeding through the night. Shadows that where soon to be caught up by the two-truck-convoy, as Victoria now noticed in the corner of her eye. Then the first one was suddenly driving past them right beneath and Bedivere's voice sounded through the intercom: "Now!"

It was like running on in the air when they pushed off, almost like flying, whose illusion of was only broken as Victoria's feet made contact with the second truck's roof. She rolled to weaken the force of impact, as did her colleagues, though, it proved difficult to not fall off from the vehicle as it was still driving and not particularly broad. Nonetheless, Victoria managed to come to a stand, her pulse pounding in her ears, but her attention was already concentrated on an other noise: excited, slightly horrified voices from within the truck. The men guarding the bomb must have heard them landing on the roof. Right according to plan.

As discussed beforehand, Bedivere and Galahad instantly moved towards the front of the truck, while Victoria and Albert headed for its back. They positioned right at the edge, their heels protruding. And like this they waited.

If Victoria had considered landing tricky, standing still now, balancing on her balls was the true challenge. The metal ground beneath her feet quaked, every turn in the road threatened to knock her down, so that she had the strong urge to grab Albert by the arm for support. But, of course, she wouldn't do that. Not only due to her pride and the awkward situation such a thing would definitely evoke, but rather because she would need to have her hands free.

There was a sudden clatter and someone opened the truck's folding doors, probably to see what had produced this pounding on the roof. Victoria and Albert jumped back, got hold of the roof's edge, and swung into the truck, whereat Victoria let her feet crash into the man who'd opened the doors, knocking him over. There were five more, two of which looked more like scientists than military men with their glasses and gloves, and between them, in the middle of the cargo area, a table carrying the bomb. They yelled over each other, the three soldiers next to them produced guns, but Albert beat them to it. One was down in the blink of an eye, the others shot at Victoria, but she just pulled the upper body of the man she still was crouching over to herself, so that the bullets pierced his old protection vest instead, which made him scream and reach for his own firearm, though, before he could do so, she threw him out of the racing truck in one quick motion, came to a stand with her own gun in her hands and froze.

The one soldier whose brain wasn't sticking to the bright walls already stood at the back behind the table, the two frightened scientists kneeling next to him, shouting at him in a language Victoria didn't know, and still she understood what they were trying to make him do: Not draw the pin from the grenade he was holding up now with determination as well as anger in his non-blinking eyes... which absolutely failed to impress the two Kingsman candidates.

"You are quicker than I am.", Albert just said in his usual stoic manner.

The final sound of Victoria's "Mhm" had barely left her vocal cords, there the bullet of Albert's gun already pierced through the man's head, she shot forward, vaulted over the table and reached the man just in time to catch the grenade from his hands, which almost drew the pin in falling. The two scientists stared up at Victoria, who attached the shell to her belt calmly, as if she had all the time in the world, as if she hadn't just saved them all from an explosion.

"Team Beta to Team Alpha...", she heard Albert report to their mentors behind her, as she aimed two guns at the men, which made them raise their hands high in an instant. "... we have secured the Bull."


	32. Phase 2

**_Author's Note: Damn, writing that one took far too long! Aaaanyway I wish y'all a late merry christmas! :D Hope you had an amazing time!_**

**_Now, enjoy, my lovely Ladies and Gentlemen, and please keep reviewing! Your comments are the best motivation EVER O.O_**

* * *

**Phase 2**

"There is it. Over there.", the young man said, pointing at the light in the distance that shone out of the terrorists' shelter's entrance. It amazed Victoria how he managed to sound so confident now, completely without the quiver his voice had been predominated by earlier when Galahad and Bedivere had pressed any information possible out of him and the two scientists, which hadn't been much, unfortunately, since it was soon clear that only their superiors knew more about whoever built this bomb for them, thus, moving on to Phase 2. Needless to say, the Kingsmen had left their hostages' faces unscathed, which was a different story concerning their bodies, as they could still assist them further. And they would, Victoria knew from looking at their intimidated expressions while Galahad spoke in both a calm and a threatening tone.

"Good. Let's rehearse one more time, shall we? How did the handover go?"

"As planned.", the young man who sat in the passenger seat answered like a shot.

The Kingsman looked at him with slightly raised brows. "Well, that was a little to eager of you to be credible." He took one hand off the wheel and placed it on the gun on his thigh. "Again."

The young man swallowed almost invisibly, then shrugged and repeated in the casual tone friends used for each other: "It went as planned."

"Good. And how did the dents get into the roof?"

"Oh, you know how the mountains are: You can't take a step without being hit by a rock!"

"And what about the bomb?"

"Just as we imagined. Nothing will stand in our way from now on."

"Excellent. That's how you are going to present it to your superior, because if you don't manage to be convincing, you know what you are in for, do you not?"

He kept looking straight ahead, but the young man's quiet voice gave away how he was just hiding his fear, which he'd shown plenty of before. "A bullet to the head..."

"What was that?"

"A bullet to the head."

Galahad spoke into the walkie-talkie they used to communicate with the other truck. "And now everbody: What do you get if you mess up?"

"... _Bullet to the head_...", the scientists' voices came back unenthusiastically.

Victoria pressed her lips together to not burst into laughter. Naturally, it slipped the young man's notice how hilarious Galahad's humorous approach to launching threats was, but to her it was a more than enjoyable show... as well as a much needed distraction from her nervousness.

The adrenaline hadn't quite left her bdy, still lingered there waiting for the next exciting situation, though, now, feeling the rough material of the cloth that was tightly wrapped around her chest rub against her skin, it mixed with concern. The Kingsmen and their apprentices had just been changing uniforms with the few dead soldiers - whose remains they'd removed as well, of course - when they all realised something awfully obvious: Victoria was a woman and looked like one too. Fortunately, that fact wasn't exactly visible in the loose jacket and trousers those terrorists wore, especially coupled with Victoria's above-average height and acting skills which helped her to let go of her rather graceful walk and similar behaviour, but to be on the safe side, they'd agreed on her additionally tying off her curves as well as possible... and it really was as uncomfortable as it had sounded the moment Albert had given voice to this idea. However, her physical inconvenience faded in comparison to the worries that one of the terrorists might recognise her as a woman. She could be the reason this mission failed, that somebody of her troup got injured or worse, that she would actually have to fight to... death. As egoistic as it was, this thought bothered her the most.

She hadn't killed anybody yet. Albert had been the one to shoot those men. She had just thrown one out of the racing truck which might have left some wounds, but it was highly improbable that he'd died from that. Indeed, Victoria had persuaded Galahad to be ready to kill, but was she really? In all honesty to herself, she didn't know. What she did know was that she didn't even want to find out. She didn't _want_ to kill. Not that anybody of her companions here did, though, they seemed _readier_ to do so than her. She was aware that her doubts could have severe consequences, as Galahad had pointed out some days ago, but they were just natural, were they not?

A tremor in the truck's floor made her attention snap back to the here and now. One quick look out of the tiny window to her left told her that they were entering a system of large caves, converted into the terrorists' hiding place. Numerous lights installed to the rugged ceiling illuminated the great 'hall' they now rolled into, revealed several vehicles as well as people, seemingly men exclusively, though, it was hard to tell since most of them were wearing gas masks. They looked just the same as the ones the Kingsmen had found stored in the first truck and were wearing themselves now. The terrorists' unfamiliarity with bio-chemical weapons had apparently made them extra careful.

The truck came to a stand and Victoria positioned herself at its back. She paused for a moment to shove her worries aside, compose herself. Then she opened the folding doors and dismounted the cargo area.

It was advantageous that all eyes were either directed at the young man at the truck's front reuniting with their superior - judging from his genuinely sounding joyful tone he acquitted himself pretty well - or, which the majority seemed way more interested in, the second truck, which Victoria and Galahad approached now to help their colleagues discharging the fake bomb. A murmur went through the crowd when its head came into sight, some even cheered, patted their neighbour's shoulder in an optimistic fashion. It was a grotesque reaction to something which was supposed to kill hundreds of innocent people.

Victoria suppressed an annoyed groan upon the two scientists squeezing through the narrow gap between her, who carried the back of the bomb together with her mentor, and the truck's sidewall in order to greet their boss as well. They sounded calm and confident in explaining the various parts of the bomb to him as soon as the Kingsmen and their candidates had put it down to the ground. Good. Even better was the pleased tone in their superior's voice - unfortunately, Victoria didn't understand a single word, so she made a mental note of learning Turkish sometime soon - and his restrained behaviour towards the bomb itself. It seemed as if he feared it or, at least, had great respect for its power, which meant that he indeed suspected nothing of the deception.

Not the slightest hint of her confusion let Victoria show, when the tall man that was the organisation's head approached her and her colleagues, just nodded along with them and imitated their actions. Together the four of them lifted the bomb up again and followed the scientists, who now led them through the crowd, probably to the place they were going to store the weapon in.

And that was it. That's been the moment she'd feared the most. The moment any of those terrorists could have exposed them, exposed _her_. It's been so easy... Could that really have been it? Victoria didn't dare heaving a sigh of relief, not before they had completed the whole mission. Still... one of the most nerve-racking parts was indeed over now that they were alone in these corridors the scientists guided them through.

"Where is the helicopter you've been talking of?", Bedivere asked quietly yet firmly.

"Th-the helicopter is up-upstairs.", one of the scientists brought out stammering, seemingly nervous again. Understandibly so, after Galahad carried the bomb with only one hand whereas the other rested on his gun in case the two men had anything stupid in mind. "Y-you just follow the corridor on the-the right up there, then right again, then left, then go up the stairs there until you reach the t-top. The helicopter's there."

"Splendid. You are going to show us, though, understood?"

The man swallowed and nodded.

"And the central computer?", Galahad joined in, sounding just as threatening as his partner.

This time the second one replied: "I-In his room. I-I'll show you."

"As long as you remember what happens in case you lure us into a trap, I agree."

"Bullet to the head, yes..."

Galahad and Victoria made sure their colleagues had the bomb well in hand, before already turning into a corridor to their left together with the scientist who constantly had to push his glasses back up his nose, since sweat made it slide down again and again. Usually, Victoria would pity someone for being so frightened, however, neither could she forget the fact that this man was indeed one of those terrorists responsible for the death of several civilains, nor was this the right moment to concentrate on anything other than the mission. After all, the increasing amount of people they encountered on the way made it even more difficult to maintain their cover.

Most of them didn't even pay attention to them, just kept talking to each other, or only greeted them with a nod, but still... Was she getting paranoid or did those men really shoot Victoria suspicious glances when passing her? Perhaps it's because of the gas masks they were still wearing. No, some of them did too. Maybe, despite all her efforts, her feminine side was showing somehow? Or maybe it really was just a figment of her imagination. Galahad seemed calm, so there wasn't anything wrong, most probably. But then again, he almost always looked calm. He was a Kingsman after all. Kingsmen didn't panic, which was why Victoria forced herself to breathe slowly, think positively. And for the first time ever hearing Albert speak helped in doing so.

"_We found the helicopter. Ready to go when you are._", he informed them through the intercom in a low voice, so that noone except them would perceive him.

_Good_, Victoria thought with relief. Proper means of escape was being provided for. Now Galahad and her only had to find that computer, download everything connected to the bomb's creators and leave. A simple task. Very simple. Almost disappointing actually. Her sense of an 'exciting time' had indeed changed in the last year. The thought made the corners of her mouth twitch with amusement.

"We'll have to take the elevator down to the bottom level.", the scientist told them in a similar undertone like Albert. "The last door there is the patron's-" He aburptly changed into speaking Turkish to them, when the sound of footsteps reached them.

Four men turned into the corridor they were now pretending to converse in, two of which also wearing their gas masks, which gave their laughs a both muffled and metallic quality. Upon seeing the scientist, they chorused an "Ah!" and continued to speak quickly, but addressing him now. He came to a halt, looking friendly yet overwhelmed, though, Victoria couldn't really assess if that was down to his general personality or the stressful situation he'd found himself in. She glanced at Galahad, who was wearing his neutral mask, but Victoria knew that he actually monitored the men's conversation meticulously, every word the scientist said, examining them for any sign of betrayal. Obviously, Victoria was not of much use in that area, so she concentrated on the four soldiers instead, checking their mimics and gestures for any kind of suspicion in the most unobstrusive manner possible. There was no problem to be found, however. All of them had their attention directed at the scientist exclusively... All but one.

Victoria avoided eye-contact with him, one of the men in the masks, but she sensed that he looking her over as well as Galahad. Did he see through their game? Yes, the organisation was smaller than others, but there surely were enough members to not know every single face, so perhaps he was just curious. Or he recognised her as a woman. But would he stay so reserved yet relaxed if he really was more than curious?

Her fingertips started to tingle. Oh, why couldn't she at least put her hand on her gun, just in case she had to draw it? Naturally, she knew why and didn't do so, but she had such a strong desire to.

Victoria was just wondering if Galahad felt the same, when the man talking to the scientist addressed _him_ now with a smile. A shadow crossed the scientist's face, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, seeing how Galahad immediately replied in perfect Turkish, imitating his opponents' physical and verbal mannerisms to make them like and trust him unconsciously. Mirroring was what that was called, one of the simplest technique they'd covered in Merlin's NLP classes. And, its simplicity notwithstanding, it actually worked.

One comment later the four men let them be, walked off with a chuckle, even the allegedly suspecting one. And Victoria was jolly glad about it. Had they addressed her as well, Galahad and the scientist would have had to come up with some more or less plausible reason why she couldn't answer them. It made her feel like a burden, like being incompetent. Indeed, Albert didn't speak a word Turkish as well, but still... It was plainly irritat-

Victoria's mind snapped back to reality, her whole attention suddenly consumed by the clicking sound her sensible ears had picked up. Immediately, Victoria looked up to the hanging light they were just passing and the reflexion she saw there in the metal surface made her heart miss a beat: The suspicious man lifted his machine gun, his eyes fixed on Galahad.

Victoria spun around, produced her gun in the swift movement and shot him right between the eyes.

For a moment his colleagues just stared at the corpse on the ground. Then they started screamimg, brought their own weapons to their shoulders, but, before even one single bullet could leave them, Galahad's had already pierced all three of the terrorists.

"Good one.", the Kingsman told Victoria, who still had her gun raised, indicating that he understood what had just happened. His words were almost cut off by a siren, though, which made him curse under his breath, pick up one of the terrorists' machine guns, grab the paralysed scientist by the arm and give Victoria the sign to run.

"_Galahad, what's happening down there?_", Bedivere's stern voice came through the intercom.

"We're busted.", Victoria heard her mentor say over the shrill tone, while she tried to catch up with him and the scientist he practically dragged along beside him. "Get the heli ready. We just get the data and then let's _scram_!" At the man next to him he shouted: "Where's the lift you've been talking about?" However, he seemed so shocked that no word left his trembling lips, so Galahad stopped running, pressed him against the wall and slapped him so hard, it was a miracle that it didn't behead him. "WHERE'S THE FUCKING LIFT?!"

"C-c-close!", he stammered. "Two more corridors! Left, then right! I show you!"

As soon as the Kingsman let go of him the scientist started rushing down the way he'd just described to them. With the barrel of his machine gun pointing forward, Galahad went after him, quickly followed by Victoria. They turned into the next corridor on the left, ran it down, then they turned right and-

"WATCH OUT!"

Victoria yanked Galahad back, even though he had been about to jump out of the way on his own anyway upon seeing the terrorists shooting at them from the other side of the corridor they'd just wanted to turn into. They barricaded themselves behind the wall, Galahad returned the fire, Victoria was about to join him, but there something else caught her attention.

"Galahad!", she called, squatting down to the panting scientist lying on the ground, whose chest was already covered in the blood streaming from the gunshot wound his own people must have inflicted on him accidentally.

The Kingsman looked over his shoulder, grimacing. "Shit... Swap!"

In one quick motion he and Victoria changed places, making her their defender now, even though there were no shots fired anymore, only shouts. She peeked around the corner to ascertain that their attackers had indeed hid away for now - despite spending just a moment with trading fire, Galahad had surely made them swallow quite a few losses with his Kingsman-like deadly precision - having her gun at the ready in case one of them decided to show himself. It was amazing how calm her hands held the weapon, how they didn't shiver at all, considering the utter chaos that prevailed in Victoria's head after what had happened.

She'd just killed a human being. She'd aimed right between this man's brows and had shot him in this exact spot, completely aware that that would kill him. And that without a trace of hesitation or reluctance. Granted, this man had been about to kill Galahad and then her as well most probably, ruining the whole mission thereby, but... but... But what? Why was she actually so confused about it? This man had been a terrorist, jointly responsible for the past and future deaths of innocents. Indeed, a single one of them down didn't make a difference yet, didn't make the world a better place, but, regarding his potential as a murderer, he was better killed than spared. Yes, it'd been the right decision to shoot him. The only option.

A scream of the scientist next to her interrupted her train of thoughts abruptly.

She glanced over to him, noticing the beads of sweat on his abnormally pale face, as Galahad firmly held him by the shoulder. "Listen to me.", the Kingsman said in both an urging and slightly calming tone. "Everything's going to be alright, you understand? We'll doctor you up. But first you have to tell us if there's another bloody way to get to the computer!"

The man swallowed hard and took the horrified gaze from his bloodstained hands he'd apparently had pressed against his chest before to look up at Galahad. Then he shook his head. "This base was built on mines. There's only this one elevator to reach the bottom level."

Galahad sighed heavily and nodded. "Alright. Thank you.", he said and shot the scientist in the head. A coup de grâce, as Victoria knew, and still she turned away at the sight. She had to check on their attackers' positions anyway, especially since the shouts and the screams were decreasing suddenly.

"They're leaving.", she stated frowning, even though Galahad saw for himself anyway.

He looked back the way they'd come. "They are assembling..."

"_They're going to cut you off the escape route._", Bedivere gave voice to what had just crossed Vcitoria's mind.

The two of them exchanged a look, Galahad seemingly pondering.

Then he sighed heavily, starting to hasten down the corridor from earlier. "Abort mission.", he grumbled. "We'll be with you in about 2 minutes."

"Wait what?" Victoria, hurrying after him, frowned. "What about the data?"

"Forget about it. With no way out but the one they're going to storm, the computer room down there is now the strategically worst located spot in the entire cave system."

"But if we don't find out who's the provider of the bomb, they are going to built more and distribute them!"

"_There are other ways to catch them._"

"That takes too long! We need to know _now_, _before_ they get the chance to have their product tested on actual people!"

Abruptly Galahad spun around, took Victoria by the shoulders. Through the gas mask his stare looked even more intense. "Do you want to die, Victoria? Because the chance that we leave this place alive would go near zero if we went down there! We'll never be of use to anybody anymore. You're a dab hand at prioritising, are you not?"

Victoria nodded slowly.

Galahad let go of her. "Good. Now get a move on. They will be here soon."

He turned to run again, however, he stopped as soon as he noticed the lack of footsteps behind him. From afar, he frowned at Victoria who hadn't budged one bit.

Her mentor was right: There were yet so many in need of help. This mission wasn't worth a Kingsman's sacrifice... But she was no Kingsman.

Without further ado Victoria dashed off the way they'd just come from.

"Victoria!", Galahad called after, both shock and surprise sounding in his voice.

"_What's going on?_", she heard Bedivere ask through the intercom in an impatient tone that would normally annoy her to such an extent that she replied herself, but not now.

Galahad didn't answer him either, just kept running after her, shouting: "Victoria! Stop at once!" over and over again.

"Go to the heli!", was her only reply, which only made him yell louder.

"Victoria! Stop! That's an _order_! VICTORIA!"

But she ignored him, was too focused on sprinting down the corridors as fast as she possibly could, whilst watching out for any sign of those terrorists coming back at them again. After all it would be plainly embarrassing to be shot down now that she chose to risk her own life for the greater good. Well, at least if she wasn't caught by the Kingsman behind her beforehand.

He'd stopped shouting, so that there was only his panting to perceive through the intercom, as he most probably concentrated fully on running and one quick peek over her shoulder told Victoria that he was doing one hell of a job in that. But she hadn't spent months of training for nothing, so she sped up even more.

She jumped over the scientist's corpse lying on the ground, turned right, just as he'd told them earlier, and there, at the corridor's end, there was it. The lift. It was a brittle looking thing, made of wood and a little metal here and there, including an old scissor gate, which Victoria pulled closed in the instant she got inside. Though, before she could press the 'Down'-button to her left, she winced as Galahad practially crashed into the gate, grabbing her wrist through it.

Victoria wanted to show him the determination in her face, but when she looked up at him confusion spread within her, as his brown eyes were now filled with something she'd never seen in them before: Fear.

"Victoria...", he breathed, shaking his head. "Don't..."

For a moment Victoria was frozen to the spot, wasn't able to think straight.

Did he really care for her that much? Or was he just worried to fail as a protector, as a Kingsman? Maybe he was just playing a trick on her, using another technique to get her to obey his orders. Or maybe it was something else, something she didn't know of.

Whatever it was, eventually, Victoria had to disappoint him.

"Get the heli ready. If I'm not there in 5 minutes... Get. Out of here.", she said in the best matter-of-fact tone possible and pressed the button.


	33. Pedal

**_Author's Note: I'M BAAAAACK! I'm still not finished with my exams, but fuck that, HERE'S ANOTHER FF CHAP! :D_**

**_I really hope you enjoy this, Ladies and Gentlemen, as much as I enjoyed writing it! And thanks sososo much for your continuous support *HUUUUUUUUG*_**

* * *

**Pedal**

"_Victoria, I beg you, come back up..._"

Victoria rubbed her wrist where Galahad had held her until, reluctantly, he'd had to let go, since otherwise the lift's ceiling would have ripped his arm off.

"_The time is running out, Victoria, please..._" The tone in his voice was heartbreaking... so Victoria cut the connection.

She didn't want to hear his pleading anymore, didn't want to hear Bedivere scream at her. Neither of the two would dissuade her from doing this.

They just didn't see how advantageous her decision was to them. If things went as planned, they'd have the data they'd been after without having lost any of them. The mission would be accomplished. If things went wrong... Well, at least the question of who would become the new Kingsman would be cleared up.

Sighing, Victoria shook her head, in order to get rid of the thought of dying and the one of her family accompanying it.

Her parents, her brothers, her grandmother... They might lose Victoria forever in the next few minutes and they had no clue about it. How devastated they'd be. Perh!aps, that was why Galahad had been so scared. As her mentor, he would have to be the bearer of those dreadful news. And then he wouldn't even be allowed to tell the truth about what happened to Victoria. Her mother- Oh dear, her _mother_! She would give Kingsman hell, would use all her money and influence to investigate on the death of her beloved daughter and either disclose the organisation or Kingsman would- No, they wouldn't do _that_. Perhaps they'd let her in on the secret. Perhaps they'd use their own resources to take action against her mother... All of this was pure speculation, though, only possible to come into force in case Victoria didn't make it out of here alive, and she would definitely do anything to avert such a tragedy.

Crouching, Victoria pressed against the wall on the left - sideways to offer possible attackers a smaller target. She allowed herself one second of marvelling at how calm her hands were holding her gun at the ready, how calm she felt in general, then focused fully on the ever-growing gap between the lift shaft's wall and a corridor appearing as the lift slowly reached the bottom level. But her concerns were unfounded.

When the lift came to a stand, Victoria stared into an entirely empty corridor. It was long and way darker than the ones in the upper level, with less of a modern equipment concerning lamps and flooring. The doors lining up on its walls were made of brittle looking wood as well. All but the one at the very end.

With one hand she pushed the scissor gate aside, took her gas mask off and placed it right in the spot where it would prevent the gate from closing on its own, thus the lift couldn't leave and let the terrorists down to her. Fast but cautiously she proceeded, hurried to the door at the end of the short corridor with her gun still pointing forward. It was easy to open it, as the keys on the pad next to it were so battered, only a fool wouldn't be able to figure out the code, and upon the clicking noise telling her that it was now unlocked, Victoria kicked the door open. Still in the same moment she pressed against the wall with the keypad, however, the silence that followed made it fairly obvious that noone was in there either. Apparently, every single member of this organisation had wanted to be present when their saving weapon was delivered. Good for her.

One side of the room was as spartanly furnished as can be, with just a single matress on the ground plus a plate with some half-eaten unidentifiable food. The other one was covered in wires connected to various devices: speakers, TV screens etc, and amongst all that: the computer.

Frantically, Victoria took the USB-stick from her pocket, hurrying over to the fortunately already turned on computer. Oh, she could kiss Merlin for preparing this thing for them, this program on the stick designed to search for the wanted data and dowloading them virtually on its own. Indeed, they had been trained on such technological matters as well at Kingsman, but not to such an extent that she could do this as quickly as it needed to be done.

The second she connected the stick to the system several windows started to open and close on the dirty screen and lines of digits and letters started to rush past it. So it worked. Brilliant. Victoria sighed and checked the time on the TV screen above her: still 3 and a half minutes to go. 'An eternity for a Kingsman', she thought smirking... before the corners of her mouth fell.

The security camera didn't record sound, obviously, though it was clear that in the corridor it showed it must be fairly loud now that it was suddenly stormed by dozens of gesturing and angry looking men. What struck Victoria the most was that that corridor was the one leading to the lift.

Of course, she'd expected something like this, but seeing it actually become hard reality now send sweat to her forehead.

How on earth was she supposed to fight her way out of here alone? Yes, she was a good fighter, a tremendously good fighter and their troop strength didn't mean much in such a narrow environment but... They _were_ many. Victoria would have to be extremely fast to not give anybody the chance to shoot her whilst dealing with others and to get up to the heli in time. She didn't even know the shortest way to the helicopter, only the scientist's description he'd given them in the spot she'd last seen Bedivere and Albert in. Follow the corridor on the right, right again, left, then up the stairs - it sounded easy but considering the number of 'obstacles' in between, her future looked rather bleak...

Squeezing her lids shut, Victoria took a deep breath. 'Challenge accepted.'

As if her body was just as much of a machine as the one in front of her, her mind seemed to reboot after this shock, ran at full speed again as she directed her full attention at the TV screens now, studying the position and equipment of every enemy the security cameras were able to capture, calculating the best route to take through the masses. A *BLUB* rang out, making her take her concentrated gaze from the armed men.

_Download complete_

it said on the computer screen. Exactly what she'd wanted to hear. Pocketing the USB stick, Victoria checked her time once more: Roughly 2 minutes to go. With three quick kicks she smashed the computer to pieces and set off.

The shouts from above were already audible before she reached the lift, where she kicked the gas mask away. Perhaps they were blaming each other for the mess they've found themselves in now, perhaps they were trying to work out an attack strategy for all to hear, or perhaps the prospect of getting to kill simply excited them. Whatever it was that put them in such a flurry, when the lift started moving upon Victoria pressing the 'Up'-Button, every noise up there died in an instant, just to be taken over by even more shouting, this time hysterical one.

They feared her.

"And they should.", Victoria whispered to herself, jumped up and, flexing what felt like every damn muscle in her entire body, she laid herself flat against the ceiling, only holding herself in place by pressing her limbs outwards.

The shouting died once again before the lift actually came to a smooth stop. Instead, some murmured, obviously taken aback by the enemy's apparent absence. The one closest pushed the scissor gate aside, took a cautious step forward. A bad mistake.

Victoria let herself fall down to her feet, got hold of the shocked looking man's machine gun, pierced her pistol through one of his eyes and began to shoot.

One down, two down, three, four - she worked herself through the crowd so fast, they didn't even have a chance to fully grasp the situation. Eventually, some did start attacking her, but every bullet only hit the corpse she kept thrusting forward, firing through its head until it was nothing left of it than a gooey red mess. In one quick motion, Victoria both twisted the corpse away from her and replaced her now empty weapon by the machine gun in her left. Running, she finished more and more men, exactly those she'd planned through the TV screens and also as planned she turned into the first corridor to her left. Her high speed almost made her crash into the wall, but instead she just used the momentum to take two steps along it, let the hilt of the machine gun crash into a terrorist's temple and sprinted on,

Since there were less opponents facing her here, she took the time to tap her connector. "Galahad!"

"_Victoria_!", the Kingsman's response came in an incredulous tone after the tiniest of pauses.

"I know I'm late.", she panted, shooting someone down and replacing her now empty machine gun with his hand weapon mid-air. "Are you still around?!"

"_We took off a minute ago, but we're coming back for you. Where are you exactly?_"

"I'm- Hold on." The man in the corridor she'd just turned into shouted at her, visibly readied to fire, though, Victoria just jumped up to the long pendant light above them, swung over to him and with her legs wrapped around his neck they slammed to the ground. At the sound of people coming behind her, she lay flat on the back, rapidly shot all of them upside down, then twisted to the side to get to her feet and, ignoring the crack sounding from the man's neck upon that movement, she ran on to the door at the end of the corridor. "I'm in the stairwell now.", she panted, hurrying up the corkscrew staircase.

However, barely had she ended her sentence when cursing resounded over the intercom, accompanied by the sound of gunfire.

Victoria stopped running immediately. "What the hell is going on up there?!"

"_There're too many on the roof to land, Victoria._", Bedivere informed her, seeming as concentrated as ever. "_We'll have to pick you up at the main entrance._"

"The main entrance? Negative, I can't go there. Too far, I'll never make it there alive." Victoria leant against the cold metal of the hand rail for a second, huffing and puffing, desperately trying to not let fear oust hope completely. Her mind went through her possibilities in a split second until the solution crossed it in shape of a certain TV screen image. "The car park!", she blurted out, remembering one of the several images the security cameras had displayed in the computer room - cars in a cave with a big red 4 painted over the wall on one side and a large passageway leading outside - and ran on. "Bedivere, there should be an exit for cars on the northside of the mountain! Go there, I'll be there in a minute!"

"_Roger_.", he said, but shortly afterwards he piped up once more, bearing a tone of disapprovement. "_Negative, this won't work. The road leading out is far too narrow to land on and our rotor blades are too long to get any closer to that exit than 30 feet. Unless you can jump like a tiger, we won't be able to pick you up there. We'll head for the main entrance._"

"No! Stay there! I'm almost there!"

"_Victoria, it's _-"

"I'll think of something! JUST. STAY. THERE."

A pause followed in which she was certain an eye-contact-based conversation took place between Bedivere and Galahad, before the latter uttered a simple: "_Roger._"

Taking three steps at a time, Victoria rushed up the staircase as fast a hare. Only when shouting came from both beneath and above her did she slow down a little, but just to undo the hand grenade from her belt, the one she'd taken from the terrorist in the truck during Phase 1 of their mission. Her persuers drew closer, got louder and louder, until it wasn't just noise anymore that proved their existence to her, but actual shapes in the rather dark stairwell, but there she reached a door with a big 4 painted over it, pushed it open and slammed it shut after throwing the grenade into the hands of one of the terrorists. She winced at the bang behind her, but she just kept on running down the short corridor leading to the car park she'd seen via the security cameras, especially since the sound of the helicopter lifted her spirits immensely.

With a side-slide she entered the cave she'd seen on the screen and there they were, right ahead: Galahad and Albert, standing at the door of the helicopter, having their weapons at the ready to back her.

"Hello, boys.", she breathed with a smile, which fell in the instant a bullet wooshed past her. Victoria had to suppress an eye-roll as she saw men coming from the short corridor, shouting and screamimg as usual. They were like cockroaches - no matter how many you crush, there would still be some in holes you haven't burned out yet.

Sprinting over to the nearest buggy, she left it to her colleagues to fend her attackers off. Their expressions when some of them got shot from a direction they certainly didn't expect bullets to come from was priceless. Pity that there was no time to marvel at such a sight.

"_We can't get any closer, Victoria._" Galahad sounded utterly focused as he kept firing at the now hastily hiding terrorists. "_Now would be a good time for ideas._"

"I know, give me a second.", she replied, scanning the environment for anything useful. Though, what counted as useful anyway? Good gracious, she had to get into a helicopter hovering 30 feet away from where she could possibly get by herself, which was the narrow road that seemed to extend from to the left from the opening in the back of the cave. To the right there was just a huge rock, probably placed there intentionally, in order to prevent members of the organisation to fall off hundreds of metres deep in case they were driving too fast to brake on time. Apart from that there was only the car park with about a dozen vehicles ranging from ATVs, to SUVs and small trucks, all of which completely useless to Victoria's cause.

"_Victoria_-"

"Just one second!"

Yet again her mind was racing - it's becoming a habbit as it seemed - her eyes darting from spot to spot, desperately trying to find anything that might be the exit to her problematic situation: the rock outside, the vehicles in here, toolboxes in a shelf behind her, terrorist's corpses on the ground along with abandoned weapons, various-

Realisation hit her so hard, she practically squeaked. "I have a plan!", Victoria gasped, grabbing one of the toolboxes and throwing it onto the passenger seat of the buggy she was hiding behind, right before climbing in herself. "Cover me until I hotwired this buggy, then position the heli above that big rock out there, slightly behind it, though, and square with the mountain, do you understand?"

With the help of a hammer from the toolbox, Victoria was just cracking the steering column's cover open, as Albert's voice came through the intercom, carrying the confused tone of someone missing something: "_What's that good for_?"

"_I think I know what she's up to..._", Galahad took over, fortunately so, since Victoria was too occupied by clipping the wires in her hands to be up for explaining. "_Victoria, you are aware that if this goes only slightly wrong, you could get decapitated?_"

An hysterical laugh escaped her. "As much as it might surprise you, I am aware of the prospect of beheading, of the one of 'falling to death' as well. So, if you have a better plan, please feel free to fill me in on it, until then, however, I would kindly ask you to stop reminding me of the risks and do as I say, roger?!"

"_Roger.._."

"Good.", she murmured, right before the buggy's engine already roared up. "Yes!" Beaming, she sat up in the driver's seat, just to start with fright at the sight of a man standing right in front of her, wearing a wild face and pointing his handgun at her head. Before he could do any damage to it, though, his own exploded suddenly, spattering the windshield with red sludge. Grimacing, Victoria pushed the wiper button. "Good shot..."

"_Thanks_.", she barely heard Albert say over the roaring engine as she pulled away.

"Alright, I'm on my way. Get in position." Going straight towards the exit passage, she watched the helicopter outside move to the right until it disappeared from her sight. Unfortunately, the terrorists caught that too, so that Victoria came under fire once again. She didn't panic, though, just extended her shooting arm back so that she both got to see her arm's reflection in the rear-vision mirror and the ones of her attackers, and fired, constantly switiching between looking into the mirror and forward. Two men she managed to bring down before leaving the cave, turning onto the mountain road on the left. The rear-vision was now showing the big rock and the helicopter towering over it.

Brilliant. They were in perfect position. Now it was her turn.

Cautious to not let the buggy's wheels get too close to neither the scarp to her left or the cliff to her right, she raced down the narrow road, getting as many yards between her and the heli as necessary. She wasn't completely sure if it _was_ a sufficient distance, however; there simply was not enough time to calculate it through - where was Alasdair when she needed him? - since she had to put her plan into action before anyone had the chance to block off the road.

When she believed the time to be right, Victoria yanked the steering wheel sideways, flooring the brakes, the vehicle turned and, eventually, came to a stand with the rock ahead.

One last time she took a deep breath... And then she put the pedal to the metal.

The engine roared up, the buggy pushed Victoria into her seat, just as she pushed it to its own limits. It got faster and faster, the rock bigger and bigger with every bit she speeded towards it. Not taking her eyes from it, Victoria took the toolbox from the passenger seat and clamped it in the spot where her foot had just been, so that the buggy didn't stop driving even when she climbing up unto the poles building the vehicle's roof. Crouching, she still held on to the steering wheel to keep the buggy scorching straight ahead into its own doom. Her heart felt close to exploding, so Victoria screamed, screamed her fear away... And then the buggy crashed into the rock, Victoria got thrown forward, flew through the air like a bird, until she crashed into something herself. Or rather some_one_.

"I GOT HER! GO, GO, GO!", she barely heard Galahad shout beneath her over the heli's clatter and the ringing in her ears. Her head was spinning, her heart still racing, so when Galahad rolled her to the side and asked: "Victoria, are you alright?", she was only able to nod. "You didn't get hit?" He was on his knees now, scanning her body for wounds.

"Only grazed, perhaps.", she managed to get out, only now realising how breathless she was.

"Good, good... Now tell me-" Suddenly Galahad seized her by the shoulders, making her jump with fright. "- ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?! YOU COULD HAVE FUCKING DIED DOWN THERE! IT'S A MIRACLE YOU DIDN'T GET SHOT ABOUT A HUNDRED TIMES! AND YOU PUT _OUR_ LIVES AT RISK AS WELL, AND THE WHOLE MISSION, AND-" His rant came to a sudden end when he saw the USB stick Victoria was holding up. "... Did you get it? Did you get the data?", he asked, looking a little dumbfounded.

A smile spread over Victoria's lips. "All of it."

He took the stick from her, eyeing it for a second. Then, running his hands over his face, he began to laugh. "You know what?", he said. "You_ are_ crazy."

"As if not all Kingsmen were.", she chuckled weakly, infected with his happiness.

Sighing heavily, Victoria leant back with closed eyes, beaming upon Galahad saying: "Bedivere, report to Merlin that the mission's accomplished."


	34. Welcome

**_Author's Note: Heya! I know this chapter's quite short concerning how much time passed since I last updated the story, but there's a reason for it: This chap and the next one were intended to be just one, but in writing I realised that it would make much more sense, story-wise, to split them up. So this and the next one are going to be rather short, but from there the following chaps should be of regular length again :) Plus, I might be able to update more quickly, as I got 2 weeks off of university :D So, see you soon!_**

**_Until then, enjoy this chap, Ladies and Gentlemen, and please keep reviewing! :)_**

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**Welcome**

It was an uncomfortable silence that prevailed between them. Indeed, their communication hardly ever exceeded silence anyway, but usually it was a careless one, insignificant and natural. Now, however, as she was standing right next to him, Victoria felt an almost irresistable urge to talk to Albert.

She hadn't been able to pay any attention to him during their way back to England, since she was still recovering from this ordeal of a mission. After treating her few wounds, Galahad had also ordered her to sleep and she'd been more than glad to obey, even though Merlin's both critical and amused reaction to their report had kept her awake a little. So, too, had one particular thought invading her mind, ever since she'd handed the USB stick to her mentor: It's been _her_ who'd accomplished the mission. It's been_ her _who'd single-handedly taken out dozens of enemies, fighting her way out of a terrorist fortress in this manner. Just like only a true Kingsman could do. And, upon seeing his thoughtful expression when they finally arrived at headquarters, Albert appeared to be aware of that as well. Of course, Victoria didn't dare to conjecture, but she couldn't help being quite confident of victory, of having kept her promise. '_Win this thing_', Alasdair had told her the last time she'd seen him. And now she was so close to doing him this favour.

She still couldn't believe it. To her it seemed like yesterday when she was struggling with her acting career, desperately trying to improve her life, and now... she would become a warrior, a lifesaver, an adventurer... a Kingsman. She could laugh out loud, cuddle her ever-excited dog Harry harder than ever before and jump for joy. "I made it!", she wanted to scream. "After so many setbacks, after so few believing in me,_ I made it_!" Though, naturally, she didn't. First of all, a proper lady knew how to restrain herself even in cases of extreme emotion, and secondly, it would be most tactless towards Albert. He _had_ been an exceptional opponent throughout the whole contest, sharp as a knife, strong as an ox, fast, patient, cool-headed. Yes, they'd had their differences - vast differences... sometimes she wished _she_ had been the one to almost break his nose - and yet she truly believed that he would've been a worthy Kingsman as well, which was what she was so close to telling him now that they were standing side by side in the library, waiting for the announcement of the decision.

But, before she could even open her mouth, there was already put an end to their agonising wait.

The two candidates stood at attention when the door opened and both Merlin and Arthur entered.

"At ease.", the former told them with a blank face.

Arthur, on the other hand, wore a polite smile as he spoke: "Good afternoon, Victoria. Good afternoon, Albert. I am certain you two are already needles and pins about Kingsman's decision. Either way, I would like to congratulate you both on an accomplished mission first of all." He shook hands with Victoria first, then Albert. "You have done a great service to the people those terrorists intended to attack, as well as to civilisation as a whole. Well done."

Even though his appearance did indeed radiate genuine friendliness and joy, Victoria couldn't avoid sensing a certain artificiality in it. His words seemed to be picked carefully and committed to memory, though, she had to admit to herself that her own reservations towards him might play a role in her perception.

"You're surely pleased to hear that using the data you gathered down there, we were able to pin down a research institution in the east of France as the provider of the bomb.", Merlin joined in. "They must have made a deal with the terrorists in order to finance their research. Whoever's going to be the new Kingsman, it will be your task to pursue investigations in that case and take this organisation down completely."

"But before we announce our final decision,", Arthur piped up once again. "I have a question for you." He turned to Victoria. "Why exactly did you disobey your superiors and risk your life to retrieve this information?"

His question took her aback a little. Surely, Galahad had already given him her reasons, since she'd explained them to him in detail on their way back anyway, so why questioning them now? Perhaps, he didn't believe Galahad, suspecting him of having whitewashed the situation in order to make Victoria seem like a more attractive choice as Kingsman than Albert. Or perhaps he just wanted to hear it coming from her, in her own words.

Straightening her shoulders, Victoria recited what she'd said in the plane back home: "It was a matter of prioritising, Sir. These data were vital in eradicating terrorism in that area and risking my life in the attempt to gain them did not appear to be too... grievous, with regard to the lives we might save thereby."

"You didn't risk your own life exclusively, though."

"Indeed, and I already apologised to my colleagues for having had to put them into this position. But if there's one thing I've learnt at Kingsman, it's that it is an agent's upmost duty to protect innocents by all means."

For a moment which felt like an eternity, Arthur stared at her and, although it made her feel extremely uncomfortable, Victoria held his gaze.

Was he contemplating the validity of her argument? Was he trying to figure out if her reasons were good enough to justify her actions? Or if she was lying? There was still a faint smile on his thin lips. An indicator for him just testing her before, finally, naming her the new Kingsman, perhaps? His new colleague and inferior? Victoria wasn't fond of _this_ prospect, though, of course, she would bear this little disadvantage as Galahad seemed to have been able to come in terms with it as well and, as she knew, he wasn't much of a fan of the organisation's head either. She probably wouldn't get to see him too often anyway, maybe to report on-

"I'm sorry, but Kingsman will not tolerate this kind of misbehaviour.", Arthur said, the smile having vanished. "Your packed belongings await you at the main entrance. I wish you a pleasant journey, Miss Davies-Norwood."

Her shoulders still straightened, her unblinking eyes still directed at the elderly man, Victoria stood there, stiff as a statue, wondering if yesterday's battles might have marred her hearing after all.

Arthur couldn't possibly have said what she believed him to have said. She must have misunderstood. She looked at Merlin... and felt her world crash into pieces. His apologetic look confirmed that her hearing was as excellent as ever.

Victoria's heart began to pound harder, quicker.

No. NonononononoNO. It couldn't be true. _It couldn't be true. She_ was the one who accomplished their mission! _She_ was the one having risked her own life due to Kingsman's purpose! And still they believed Albert to be a better choice? _Albert_?! This cold-hearted bugger?! No, there must have been some mistake. Or perhaps they were playing a trick on her. Yes, it was another test! They wanted to see if she would just give up! Or did they want to see if she would respect their decision, even if it was the _worst one ever_?

Again she looked at Arthur, desperately searching for a sign of him joking. But she found nothing but her own defeat. And impatience.

Of course. She wasn't supposed to stand there for so long, staring at her never-to-be operator or her never-to-be boss. She was supposed to leave, make space for the winner.

So, without further ado, Victoria turned on her heels and left the library. As she was walking down the long corridor, she wished that her hearing actually _was_ marred, so that she wouldn't get to hear Arthur telling Albert: "Welcome to Kingsman, Percival."


	35. Shattered Dreams

**Author's Note: Remember the time I told you the next chap's going to be short? Well... oops :) **

**Now please enjoy, Ladies and Gentlemen, and keep reviewing! (Oh and btw: what do you think about tHE NEW TEASER O MY FUCKING BELLAMY I WOKE UP TO SEE IT ON MY FB WALL AND I TOTALLY LOST IT HOLY SHIT HOW DO I COPE WITH MY EMOTIONS HELP.)**

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**Shattered Dreams**

The sun was shining so brightly that the trees' autumnly crowns shone in bronze and gold, making them deserve the name even more. Faint twittering of birds sounded in the air and a warm breeze let some strands of her hair tickle her face. Victoria didn't pay attention to any of it. Not even Harry's whining and nudging against her cheek - a costom that usually raised her spirits in the blink of an eye - kept her from staring holes into the air, frowning, as she was sitting there on the staircase that led to the mansion's main entrance. It was right here when she had said good bye to Alasdair, when she'd made her promise to him... and now she broke it. And she still couldn't grasp how that happened.

Victoria had done nothing wrong after all, had she? Indeed, she had disobeyed superiors' orders, though, just for a good cause! Wasn't this the whole point of Kingsman being independent from the government? Because only Kingsmen were prepared to do what was necessary? And now, all f a sudden, that was a bad thing? Even if her setting priorities counted as misbehaviour, wasn't the way she had carried them out, this undoubtly great performance she'd delivered, worth anything in weighing her and Albert's aptitude for being a Kingsman? Bloody hell, she'd fought her way out of some terrorist organisation's headquarters, all on her own! And this certainly wasn't the first time she'd exceeded expectations, had pushed boundaries: What about the time she'd saved Edmund from drowning? What about the time she, who had never received proper training in close combat before, managed to literally kick some practiced fighters out of the competition? The entire training was just a single series of demonstrations of her competence! Who else but her - and Alasdair, for that matter - had produced as surprising results, going from bottom of the list of contestants to the very top in just five short months? Granted, these incidents contained some form of misbehaviour and disobedience of hers as well, but, damn it, the main point was that she made it! And shouldn't that be what actually mattered?!

Victoria dug her nails into her palms so hard it hurt, but she barely noticed over the rage seething within her.

It was unfair. It was so incredibly unfair! _She_'d made the most progress,_ she_ should be the new agent.

In one quick motion she stood and marched into the building again, followed by her now nervously barking dog.

Did Arthur think she would give up so easily? After all she'd been through, after all she'd done for becoming a Kingsman, she definitely wouldn't quit the field, not without this poor excuse for a gentleman issuing a statement on this blatant injustice. Indeed, this certainly wasn't the way a lady handled the situation, but _blast_ 'ladylike'! She hadn't spent an agonising half of a year in training to be kicked out like a vagabond from a brothel! She deserved better, she deserved an apology, at the least, and if Arthur was unwilling to offer it to her, she'd slap it out of him! How well of a fighter could he possibly be anyway? Victoria'd enjoyed the same education as he had and she was younger and likely to be quicker. She could definitely take him one-on-one, punch that ugly smile from his face and break his -

"Victoria!"

Her mind snapped back to reality and she spun around.

Galahad, his umbrella in one hand, was hurrying towards her, coming from the entrance himself, as he'd probably been looking for her there.

"I'd love to chat with you, but there are urgent matters I have to attend to first.", she said in a more cutting voice than intended and wanted to march on, though, the Kingsman blocked her way.

"I know you're upset - and justifiably so - but let's not do anything rash and discuss this outside, shall we?" With that he walked down the way he'd just come from. He held the entrance door for her, leaving Victoria no choice but to give in and follow him.

"So you knew about his decision.", she concluded as soon as the autumn breeze blew around her once again.

Cautiously closing the door behind him and leaning the umbrella against it, Galahad said, in a far too calm tone for her liking: "Of course, I did. Choosing a new agent is a decision by majority voting."

Victoria's eyes widened. "What?! So Arthur is not the problem, but the whole pack of you?!"

"_I_ voted in _your_ favour, of course.", he insisted, his voice sharpening now that they were out of earshot of any possible listeners. "And others did as well, including Merlin." He sighed, rubbing his forehead as if being anguished by a severe headache. "But in the end the majority joined Arthur in his belief that Albert would make a better Kingsman."

"But why?!", she yelled, not able to control her temper anymore. "Tell me why on earth this arrogant prat is believed to be better than me!"

"You are quite like a hound, Victoria, wayward and impetuous."

She let out a sarcastic laugh. "Impetuous... I'm bloody furious! Usually-"

"However", Galahad, who apparently hadn't finished yet, interrupted her. "hounds are also protective, highly intelligent and loyal... qualities of a true Kingsman Knight."

Arms akimbo, Victoria stood right in front of him, giving him the hardest look she had in store as she spoke, emphasising every single word. "Then why am I not a Kingsman already?"

Now anger flared up in Galahad's own eyes. "Because we're in the bloody last century as it seems."

At first Victoria frowned, unable to spot the relevance in this statement, but then it dawned upon her and her rigid posture fell. "You can't be serious...", she murmured, searching for some indication in his expression of this being just a sick joke or a rough guess. However, Galahad's chagrin made it painfully obvious that he was in deadly earnest.

"Arthur and some of my colleagues reckon women as breakable and frail, particularly when it comes to making harsh decisions.", he grumbled.

"Oh, and he couldn't tell you from the very beginning, instead, let me fight for this job, even though my prospects of getting it were non-existent anyway?"

"No, he _did_ tell me right from the start, but he also claimed that in case you prove to be the only suitable candidate, the one who beats them all, he_ would_ comply. Your behaviour throughout the the past months played into his hands, though. When you gave this boy Edmund your breathing mask, when you risked your life to retrieve these data... He perceived your actions as proof of this theory, since you couldn't bear the responsibility accompanied by letting go. He believes... that you are unable to let people die... An extremely limited view on the situations he drew this conclusion from, as I tried to make him see, but he wouldn't listen. Just as many of my colleagues. But, well, we're living in a democracy: even if it's the most idiotic thing proposed... If the majority decides in favour of it, this most idiotic thing will become law."

For a long moment Victoria couldn't help but stare at Galahad.

She'd never experienced him so enraged. Indeed, he'd been actually furious after she'd made it into the helicopter, but, first of all, his anger hadn't lasted more than one short rant and, secondly, it had seemed more like the sort of fury induced by fear and concern about her well-being. These circumstances now had her in focus as well, of course. However, she herself didn't appear like being the cause of his ire. No, he just seemed genuinely done with this situation, with Arthur, with Kingsman even. Was she not so concerned with what the outcome of the organisation's discussions meant for her, she'd be sorry for having triggered such troublesome feelings.

Tearing her eyes away from him, Victoria looked through the entrance door's glass into the mansion. "So, there's nothing we can do." It wasn't a question. The time for questioning was over. She'd already received every explanation needed to lose hope. Galahad seemed to sense her change of mood, as from the corner of her eye she saw his own expression change.

"Victoria... I am so sorry-"

"Don't be.", she cut him off quickly, visibly surprising him with the soft smile that had formed on her lips. "It's not your turn to apologise. It's _my_ turn to thank you." Her smile grew even bigger. "Do you have the faintest idea how grateful I am to you? Not only have you saved me the common way - twice - but you saved me by giving me a new perspective. If you hadn't had the guts to stand against your superior and propose me as your candidate, I would have ended up living an ordinary, unsatisfactory life. In case I had been successful in my acting career, I might have been under the illusion that it was a good life... but there would have always been this... this desire lingering in me, this desire to go on adventures and make a change. And I would have never had the chance to achieve that. I would have died having the feeling that something was missing. A grief prospect, indeed, but it's the truth. And you prevented it. You believed in it that I, a wannabe actress without any experience in this field, _could_ become this extraordinary kind of person. You gave me a chance to achieve everything I ever wanted. And for that, Sir Galahad, I want to thank you with all my heart."

For the first time since she met him, the Kingsman was speechless. He merely stood there, gazing at her, his expression completely blank... at least until a smile spread over his face.

Taking a deep breath, he visibly readied himself for a proper answer, but an engine's faint roar cut him off.

It was an old-fashioned taxi that drove up to them, the kind Kingsman made use of regularly, coming to a smooth shops right beside the staircase to the main entrance. "Good morning!", a likewise traditionally clothed man exclaimed upon getting out. "I was told to give Miss Davies-Norwood a ride home."

"Just one moment, please." With her chin Victoria pointed at her suitcase. "Would you be so kind as to load my case in the meantime?" She hardly saw him nod as she already turned to Galahad again, whose smile had made way for a more neutral expression.

"So...", he began. "What are you planning to do next?"

She let out a deep sigh. "Well, I guess the first thing I'm going to do is treating myself to a well-deserved nap. I feel like I haven't slept in half a year, which, actually, isn't too far from the truth..." The amusement in her voice changed into a rather thoughtful tone, as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'll need some time to reconsider my options. In case you fear that I will resume my old life, I can put your mind at ease: I am not going to make my training here a waste of time."

"Oh, I trust you do; this is not what I'm concerned about. I'm rather bothered by the prospect of a partner-mission with Albert. He seems a little..."

"Stoic?"

"Now, that's a fairly elegant euphemism for 'boring'."

They laughed, but as delightful as Galahad's remark has been, a certain finality resonated in it as well. The sound of the car boot closing only added to the bitter-sweet feeling. Victoria glanced at the driver who stood by his car now, waiting patiently.

"Well,", Galahad began. Another smile had seized his features, a soft, slightly sad smile. "In case you need help with determining your future, or with anything else... you know where I live."

Victoria smirked. "Even if I didn't, it would be a simple task for me to find you. I'm not called 'hound' for nothing, after all."

His smile grew wider. "Victoria 'The Hound' Davies-Norwood..." The Kingsman paused, before extending his hand to her. "...it was a pleasure to work with you."

Victoria mirrored his expression, taking his hand. "The pleasure was all mine, Galahad."

Their farewell were brusquely interrupted by a barking Harry, who, as she realised only now, had already went ahead towards the car. Apparently, the dog was not as patient as the taxi's driver.

Indignantly, Victoria posed with her arms on her hips. "Harry! Where have you left your manners? Come and say good bye to Galahad."

As if actually being shocked by his own behaviour, the dog perked his ears up, let out a short whine and ran up the stairs, just to sit down right in front of Galahad and hold up his paw. Chuckling, the Kingsman crouched down and 'shook hands' with him. "You take care of this young lady, will you?" He smirked up at her. "Not that she's not able to cope with danger herself."

Harry barked in agreement and looked up at her as well, his questioning look implying that he was wondering, if _now_ was the right time to go. And, as much as it hurt her to admit, it finally was.

"Well, then...", she sighed, though before she could continue, Galahad spoke up once more, glancing at the sky: "Looks like it's going to rain soon." He turned, took the umbrella that was still leaning against the door and handed it to her. "Perhaps this may be of assistance."

Any other person who didn't know about this man's profession would regard this as an ordinary act of kindness. However, it was Victoria who was given this special gift to, and she did realise the significance behind it: This wasn't a gentleman offering his umbrella to a lady in order to shield her from rain. No, it was a knight arming his squire with a sword for the adventures yet to come.

Victoria eyed the umbrella in her hands, taking in the feeling of the odd fabric it was made of. Then she locked eyes with the man in front of her again, gently seized his upper arm to support herself and, drawing herself up a little, she planted a light kiss on his queek. "Goodbye, Galahad."

And with that she mounted the taxi, Harry taking the seat next to her, looking straightforward just as she did. Only when the vehicle set off did she take a last look at her now former mentor.

The grey sky got murkier, the air chillier and an otherwise short drive stretched to a perceived eternity, as hundreds of thoughts invaded Victoria's mind at the same time, none being thought to the end due to the chaos they caused in her head. So, she was forced to just stare out of the window with unseeing eyes, one hand resting on the head of a likewise gloomy Harry in her lap.

Passing cars got gradually replaced by people the more they approached the city of London, her hometown that used to be so familiar, so comforting. Now, however, its streets, its buildings, its citizens felt strange to her. Or was_ she_ the stranger here? Someone who'd changed to such a great extent that even the most long-known places didn't manage to arouse a feeling of belonging? Or had this sentiment always been lingering within her? She just couldn't tell. Everything she knew, everything she _was_ appeared so woolly now, so surreal, like she was woken out of a particularly lucid dream titled 'Kingsman'.

Even more confusion seized her when the taxi came to a smooth stand and the driver got out to fetch her suitcase. Was this it? Was this really her home? Only barely did she reckognise the park that opened up before her window, but upon looking through the one to her left she knew for certain that this was indeed their final destination.

The curtains of the living room in the ground storey were drawn, leaving just a narrow gap of light to cut into the evening's darkness. _Nan_. The name hit Victoria like a slap that finally tore her out of her trance-like state. Her nana was hanging about the couch in the living room, watching TV, just like she always had. Her mother was probably in her office, getting some work done, perhaps sipping on a glass of wine.

"Miss?"

Reluctantly, she tore her gaze from the faint glow coming from within and followed the driver's indictated request to get out through the door he was already holding open for her.

"Thank you for the ride.", Victoria muttered, unable to give the proper tone of genuine gratitide to her voice.

"You're welcome. Good evening, Miss."

Victoria waited for him to drive off, until it was so far away that the engine noise was virtually inaudible, and even then she remained glued to the spot, just frowned at the door she'd opened so many times in her life. With a deep sigh through her nose she eventually climbed the few steps leading to it, Harry staying close to her. This environment was utterly new to him after all, so it was only natural for him to stay wary. And yet Victoria doubted that this situation was near as uncomfortable for him as it was for her.

Her heart leapt into her throat, the strength left her legs, so that she could barely stand upright. Upon lifting her hand to knock, she noticed that she was shiverng too. But why? Why was she feeling so queasy? She was about to see her family again! After about half a year, after this hell of a training she would finally embrace her mother, hear her whisper into her ear: "It's okay, dear."

Victoria stopped her fist midair.

Yes, her mother would comfort her, like she always had when her daughter had failed. And that's what Victoria was delivering here: yet another failed cause.

Abruptly, she turned on her heel. "Come, Harry.", she gasped out, marching towards the park opposite to her home and leaving her suitcase where it was for now. She just desperately needed to go for a walk. Yes, that might calm her down, allow her to summon all her courage to face her family.

The first drops went past her mind completely, as she was trudging past the trees and lawns, however, when the rain got heavier, she put up the umbrella she had still been clutching to. Though, she rather held it over her dog instead of herself. She didn't mind getting wet. She barely even sensed it over the numbness spreading within her anyway. It was as if her spirits had left her, as if someone had seperated her soul from her body, so that she was wandering around as nothing but an empty shell. No thoughts were bustling about her head anymore, no anger, no fear, no _anything_. This was why Victoria was glad that her body pushed the panic button all by itself.

The muscles in her legs flexed, her pace quickened and before she knew what was happening, Victoria was running. Harry barked behind her, but caught up in a matter of seconds. Shutting the umbrella, she even stepped it up a notch further, dashing past the block of houses of her own neighbourhood as though being chased, not knowing which place her legs intended to be her final destination or whether there was one at all. She just kept running, feeling adrenaline pump through her veins, as she and her dog were rushing through the streets of London. People frowned at her, called out to her when she ignored some red lights. Raindrops clashed against her skin, stung like needles made of ice. It didn't matter. What mattered was that she didn't stop.

Another street crossed, another housing block passed, another turn and then... Victoria slowed down, having reached the spot her subconscious mind had been leading her to.

Huffing and puffing, she stood there, strands of wet hair sticking to her face, as she just stared at the now dark shop window of _Kingsman &amp; Sons_. Then the raindrops mixed with tears, her legs gave in and Victoria fell to her knees.

"I failed. I gave everything, and I failed...", she whimpered, clutching at her chest as her heart was cut deep by the shards of her shattered dreams.


	36. Home Sweet Home

**_Author's Note: OH MY FUCKING BELLAMY I ACTUALLY PLANNED TO ONLY START WRITING THIS CHAP ON FRIDAY SINCE I'VE GOT SO MUCH TO DO FOR UNIVERSITY BUT FUCK THAT THE GOLDEN CIRCLE TRAILER IS SO AWESOME I _HAD_ TO WRITE THIS. IN LITTLE MORE THAN ONE DAY. I'M SO HYPED I'M CONSTANTLY SCREAMING. THE EYEPATCH, PEOPLE! THE EYEPATCH! CALLED IT, CALLED IT, CAAAAAALLED IIIIT! *runs of laughing like the maniac I most definitely am*_**

**_joycelyn. : "tata, bitches" xDD great one!_**

**_Please enjoy this chap, you wonderful people, and please keep reviewing! This fic wouldn't be good at all without you motivating me! And now, please _****_excuse me, Ladies and Gentlemen, while I watch that awesome trailer over and over again until my heart explodes from excitement._**

* * *

**Home Sweet Home**

Looking from one coin to another, Victoria became painfully aware of the negative side-effects of privilege. Never in her life had it been necessary for her to use a telephone box, had merely regarded the pretty red booths as a tourist attraction, a form of colourful accessoire to brighten up the picture of London. Now, though, as she was uncomfortable with asking random people on the street to use their mobile phones - most didn't even own one anyway or, understandibly so, were unwilling to lend such an expensive device to a stranger - or in restaurants, Victoria was forced to resort on this alternative. Embarrassment over her current situation just made her wish to get as few people involved as possible. She'd even thought of breaking into her room at home to fetch her own mobile, but the possibility of encountering her mother, as faint as it may be with her set of skills, had made her abandon the idea in almost an instant. Besides, it might render her whole plan pointless.

As she'd been sitting there at the entrance door to _Kingsman &amp; Sons_, with no tears left to cry, she'd pushed all her sadness aside in order to be able to rationally contemplate on her options concerning where to stay for the moment, after finding the right apartment for her own would take quite some time.

She couldn't go home, since facing her mother would be too difficult. Firstly, in Victoria's annoyingly emotional state, it'd be almost unbearable to have to lie about what actually happened, and, secondly, her home was far too close to the Kingsman shop. The risk of crossing paths with someone like Arthur every single time she went for a walk with Harry was simply too high for her liking. So going home was out of the question.

An option that would rid her of the latter problem was to grab her suitcase - it had been foolish to leave it behind, since going back for it had gotten her dangerously close to the window which Nan was sitting next to - go to the airport with Harry, buy a ticket to Australia and live with her father for a while. But he was less discrete than her mother, so that he would bombard her with questions, all of which Victoria would have to answer with yet another lie to his face. So that was not ideal either.

Putting up at a hotel was impossible as well, since all of her credit card billings were addressed to her home, making her mother know what's going on in a matter of days.

So, Victoria was left with three other options, three people she could stay with: Her brothers, Galahad and Alasdair. Each of those options was definitely more appealing than the others and she was determined to try one after the other until one of them worked the way she wanted it to. And this was exactly what she was doing right now... at least as soon as she figured out how much a call cost, as some wit must have torn the instructions off the wall.

Deciding for fifty pence, Victoria put the receiver to her ear and waited.

Ringing. Good. She made it work. Now he only had to answer.

The phone gave another rang, then a second, then a third... then a fourth. Victoria sighed, but just when she was about to hang up, a voice came from the receiver: "_Alasdair Whitehall's phone, how may I help you?_"

Surprised by the far to chesty voice to be Alasdair's, Victoria frowned. "Oh, good evening. Is this Herbert I am speaking to?"

"_It is, Miss. And with whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?_"

"Victoria Davies-Norwood, Sir. We met when you picked Alasdair up a couple of days ago."

"_Ah, Miss Norwood! Please excuse me for not reckognising your voice. It was a rather short meeting we had and my ears are not as good as they used to be. I do know you to quite some extent, though. Master Alasdair told me much about you._"

"I hope only good things!"

"_Of course, of course! Master Alasdair is very fond of you, Miss._"

That conjured a smile to Victoria's face. "I am glad to hear that. May I speak to him, please?"

The butler paused. Victoria's smile vanished slowly. "_Master Alasdair... is currently not available..._"

She waited for him to continue, give further explanations, but the elderly man remained silent. Even through the phone Victoria could hear him thinking, considering his words.

Something was wrong.

"Herbert, what happened? Where's Alasdair?", she said in a demanding tone, her features hardening.

Herbert hesitated, but not for long. "_He's_...", he began, then paused again, which was followed by a sigh. "_To be honest, I hoped _you_ could shed light on that matter, Miss_."

"Me?"

"_Well... you see, there have been some... difficulties upon his return, which was why he left. Master Whitehall reckons it an overreaction and that his son will come to his senses eventually and return, but he's been missing for almost a week now... He's never had a wide circle of friends... and he's never run away before... so I do not know where to look... I thought, perhaps, _you_ would know?_"

The genuine concern the man's voice resonated with was touching, but Victoria couldn't help but feel nothing but anger.

_Difficulties_. What kind of difficulties have arisen Victoria could imagine. Alasdair must have had a fight with his father, the father who had always met him with total indifference, which, as Victoria deemed it, was far more hurtful, far more gruesome than resentment. His reaction towards his son's rejection by Kingsman must have been the straw to break the camel's back. Actually, Victoria was surprised that Alasdair hadn't packed up long ago. _He should have_, she thought, took a deep breath and gulped down her irritation.

"I'm afraid I don't know about his whereabouts either. But I-", she started, but stopped herself in the middle of the sentence. She wanted to say 'But I could find him for you.' And she could. Easily. She's found a Kingsman without any special training. Now she_ was_ a trained spy and she couldn't imagine Alasdair barricading himself in some remote place. He probably hasn't even left London. She could root him out in probably less than a week... However, she wouldn't. Alasdair was her friend and he surely had his reasons to disappear, especially since she knew about the relationship to his father. He didn't want to be found. He needed a break. And she would grant it to him.

Smiling, she made herself sound confident. "_But I hope you'll be able to find him, Sir. Please contact me as soon as you do, yes?_"

"Of course..." Herbert's disappointment sounded so great, it almost made her change her mind... but not quite. "At which telephone number may I reach you?"

It usually was a simple question, but not to her. Not today.

Which of her remaining two options was she taking an attempt on first? Staying with Galahad seemed like the easier way from an emotional point of view, since there wouldn't have to be any lies involved. But he also was her former mentor; Victoria would constantly come in contact with the organisation that had rejected her, the fact she would like to be reminded of the least at the moment. Her brothers would do that as well with the subtle pestering they were certainly about to engage in, though not to such an extent...

Impulsively, she decided upon a number.

* * *

With closed eyes, she took a deep breath, sinking even more into his arms.

"Thank you for everything. I love you.", she whispered.

"I love you too." The gentle kiss he planted on her head let the her soft smile grow wider.

"And me? What about me?" Victoria looked up at Nick, who was just pouring her a cup of hot tea. "See, Charlie? I brewed tea for her. She certainly loves me even more than you. She's just too polite to say so."

Her brother scowled at his twin, while she sat up, taking the empty glass from the side table next to the couch. "Well, that's very considerate of you, Nick, but... you know... Charlie gave me some Scotch in the meantime, sooo... there is indeed a certain tendency towards a favourite brother..."

Nick's eyes widened. "You gave her alcohol to stop her from crying?" A grin spread over his face. "The good old days, huh?"

Victoria looked up from the cup of tea she was taking a sip from, frowning at her now laughing brothers. "What's that supposed to mean, 'good old days'?"

As Nick sat down next to her, making himself comfortable on the large couch, Charlie spoke up: "Weeeeell... it might be the case, _might_, that when you were crying as a baby-"

"- we dipped your dummy into Whisky!"

With mouth agape, Victoria stared straight ahead, until something struck her. "Wait... It wasn't too strong for me? It must have burned as hell, mustn't it?"

Furrowing their brows, her brothers looked at each other. "Hm... No... Actually, you seemed to like it."

Blinking, she looked at Charlie. He shrugged, unable to answer her implicit question about how that was even possible. Then she let out a deep sigh and put the cup to her mouth again, muttering: "Fantastic, I used to be an alcoholic baby..."

Her brothers burst into laughter and even Victoria couldn't avoid giggling a little over seeing Harry completely losing it as well, jumping up and down and barking in the happy manner she hadn't thought possible to see from him on this dreadful day. Well, dreadful up to the moment she'd knocked on the door to her brothers' apartment.

She'd been determined to greet them with a smile, with joy over finally reuniting with them again concealing any trace of the sorrow that actually dominated her emotions. However, the moment she caught sight of Nick's and Charlie's shocked faces - they_ had_ been apart for a considerably long time - her "Hi." had turned into a sob and, before she could even grasp what was happening, she had already found herself being caught in a group hug, with Harry's part of it being nudging her legs with his nose. She'd let out everything, every bit of grief she'd still been bottling up, told them everything about what had happened - a modified version of the events, naturally - until nothing remained lingering in her chest but a warm and fuzzy feeling only the embracement by family was able to evoke. They would shelter her for the time being and they wouldn't say a word to her mother either. "_Promised_." They only had a tiny problem with having Harry here, as they were just as little of animal lovers as Victoria used to be in the time prior to this gift of a dog. Apparently they feared that he might damage some of their electronic equipment with which they'd cluttered their otherwise spacious apartment up - it was a three-bedroom flat in a modern and luxury apartment building, just as it became a Norwood - which was why Charlie's laughter now adopted an undertone of nervousness upon watching Harry be in such an excited state.

"Don't worry, he might seem like a loose cannon, but if you ask him to, he behaves like the perfect gentleman. Come on, try it! Just remember to be as polite to him as you would be to human beings."

Charlie glanced at her, scepsis sparkling in his eyes, but, eventually, he straightened his shoulders and in a calm tone he said: "Harry, please be cautious around our devices..."

Immediately, the dog stopped jumping around, barked once and lay down, happily panting away.

Her brother's moment of triumph was brusquely interrupted by the doorbell, though, which he quickly went to answer.

"Hey,", the other one, Nick, addressed her. "do you already have an idea what to do next?"

Victoria shook her head, feeling sadness creep into her mind once again. "Not yet, unfortunately..."

Gently, he started poking her arm. "Don't - wow, you've really built up some muscles here, huh? - What I wanted to say is: Don't be down in the mouth. You're an amazing actress and you're gonna make it with it without this job."

"I know... It's just... I really, really wanted this. Nothing has ever felt so right for me, you know?"

"Hey, this box is for you.", Charlie cut in when he reentered the room with a package made of brown cardboard in his hands and a surprised expression on his face. "I thought it was a spontaneous decision to come here."

"It was. I don't know who this is from...", she wondered, but as he handed her the box, she instantly knew how it could have reached her here. Attached to a thin golden ribbon tied around one of the parcel's corners, there was a small, rectangular piece of white paper with a message written down on it in perfectly cursive letters, saying:

_For the most marvellous Hound_

_G._

It'd been to be expected of Kingsman to monitor her, and all the other failed candidates, for that matter, in order to make sure noone betrayed the secret. Any spilled detail, as vague as it may be, bore severe consequences... perhaps even those of the 'permanently silencing'- kind. It was a preventative method and Victoria realised its general necessity - even though they should have known that _she_ didn't intend to reveal anything at all - and since she was certain that she wouldn't be spied on for very long, she would tolerate it... Especially since Galahad got to know where she lived thereby.

"Who's 'G.'?"

"That's Mr Meyrick, my mentor."

"Really? I could have sworn mum said his first name was Callum."

"His middle name's George. He likes his friends to call him that." The lie rolled off her tongue so easily, it almost scared Victoria.

"Wait a second." Nick narrowed his eyes to slits. "What kind of friendship are we talking about?"

"They're on first-name terms..."

"... and he calls her marvellous..."

"... and gives her a nickname. Not a particularly pretty one, admittedly, but it surely is an in-joke."

"Do you have many in-jokes, Victoria? You and your 'friend' George?"

"Will you two shut up? It's not like that."

"She's blushing."

"She's so blushing."

"You're impossible...", she sighed, after punsihing them with a raised brow coupled with a black look , and focused on the box.

For a second she considered opening it when she was alone only, since its content might be too related to Kingsman for her brothers to see, but then she reminded herself of the fact that Galahad would have taken that into account when sending it here, so the risk was indeed low. So after cautiously removing the ribbon, she flipped the cover back and... gazed at the most beautiful suit in existence.

The pinstripe navy blue suit was tailored in such a way that it would hug her athletic, yet feminine figure like a second skin, just like the crisp white shirt folded beneath it and the black foulard tie suited them just as well as she'd imagined. It was the very suit she'd described to the young apprentice Richard in _Kingsman &amp; Sons_. It was the very sort of suit Galahad had worn during their first encounter, only that it was made for _her_. It was _her_ suit. Her_ Kingsman_ suit... Her _armour_.

Nick let out an acknowledging whistle.

"Now that's some really nice suit.", Charlie added. "I didn't know Kingsman clothed women as well."

"Well, I needed one so...", she replied, directing her eyes towards Harry who'd cocked his ears at the sight of the suit. He looked as though just having the same idea that struck her.

Yes, Victoria finally knew what to do next.


	37. Like A Drifter

**_Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to write this! I had to finish my proseminar paper (it's about the functionality of Klingon, Quenya and New Speak... My professor called me a nerd but it's a compliment, bc she's one too :P) plus I needed to change some things about the story. Not that there's anything I don't like about it - holy Bellamy there's still so much awesome stuff coming and aaaah I'm so excited about reading your reactions *rubbing hands and chuckling like a maniac* - but bc of the trailer. Like I said before, it's FUCKING GREAT. Buuuuut the only bad thing about it is that it contained scenes which resembled some of those I have planned for this story too much (just to remind you: I planned all this back in 2015), so I needed to decide on which to keep and which to throw over or at least change to such an extent that they don't look like copied from the trailer. But don't worry, the level of greatness remains stable :D_**

**_Now, please enjoy, Ladies and Gentlemen, and keep reviewing! Love y'all :D_**

* * *

**Like A Drifter**

It couldn't be, could it? Letting your look linger just a tad, a millisecond too long couldn't possibly lead to horror and pain. No, this had to be some bad dream, a... a nightmare! Yes, it was a nightmare... which he didn't wake up from upon pinching his own arm. It _was_ a nightmare, that's for sure... but it was a real one.

"I didn't mean anything by it, I swear!", David tried to soothe them in a pleading tone. His attempts were to no avail, though.

"Look how scared he is all of a sudden!", one of the four hooligans laughed. Then he shoved David. "Not so confident now, eh?"

_Confident_. David wasn't confident at all! Why, of course, he was in general, to a normal extent at least - he was delivering a quite good performance in his apprenticeship - but he certainly hadn't displayed any inappropriate confidence towards these four strangers, hadn't tried to provoke them. Dear God, he'd merely glanced at them! And who hadn't?

He'd just been waiting for the night bus to take him home after an exhausting shift, when suddenly those roaring and bawling men turned up. It wasn't anything special, granted; the local football club had just won some game. Maybe this was why they'd taken so much offence against him glancing at them, because they actually rooted for the other team, the one that lost. Or maybe it was because they couldn't understand that a teenage boy didn't share their enthusiasm about sports.

It didn't matter, though. What mattered was that they _had_ taken offence, that he_ had _been too unathletic to outrun them and that he _had_ been forced into this dark alley, encircled by four obviously drunk men. Whether that was on alcohol or euphoria he couldn't really tell.

"I swear, I didn't-" Another push. He tumbled, almost fell, if it weren't for the brick stone wall his back made contact with now.

The men laughed... until snarling silenced them.

It was a dog, a young one, though not less frightening as it was standing there, in semi-darkness, all tensed up and teeth bared. Its tail was stiff, like the one of gundogs in cartoons when they've just picked up the scent of their prey. And like prey the dog fixated the hooligans with its sparkling amber eyes.

"What the hell...", one of the men said under his breath.

The one closest to David gave a whistle. "Hey, good boy! You're a good boy, right?" The dog, however, didn't react to any of it, just seemed to tense up even more.

"What the fuck is it doing?"

"He's waiting for my command to tear you to pieces."

David - and two of the hooligans for that matter - started with fright at the voice coming from the other side of the alley. It was the one of a woman, soft and rich with a posh accent. When she stepped into the light it was clear that the voice belonged to an actual proper lady.

Leaning on an umbrella, the beautiful young woman in the navy blue suit that emerged now from the dark adopted such a casual posture, she almost looked bored. Her appearance reminded David of Snow White, with the dark of her hair clashing with her smooth pale skin and the red lips that formed a smile now.

"Good evening, gentlemen. A poor choice of words, admittedly. After all, you four are neither worthy of the title of a 'gentleman', nor is this going to be a pleasant evening for you... at least in case you do not leave this young man go immediately."

The hooligans exchanged a perplexed look, before already bursting into laughter.

"You're some funny tasty bir',", the one who'd pushed David exclaimed loudly even though there weren't more than a few feet between him and the woman. "bu' you shou' really call ya puppy back and fuck off."

"I will go,", Snow White said. David wondered how she managed to keep her calm. "but I'll take the boy with me." That's when she directed her smile at David. "Come on. Let's leave those... 'gentlemen' to their own business. I'm sure they've got better things to do than hanging about in such a scruffy place."

David wanted to follow her instructions, but again he was pushed back against the wall. "You little tosser stay where you are, ya hear me?", the man grunted, visibly growing angry. "Who the fuck do you think you are, bitch? Fuck off -" David froze at the sight of the small hand gun he took from his pocket, pointing it at the still snarling dog. "- or I'm gonna send ya little friend here to dog's heaven."

David didn't know how Snow White got there so fast, but suddenly the woman was behind the man, the handle of her umbrella around the arm he'd extended towards the dog. The smile had vanished from her face, had made way for a more than hard expression. "Huge mistake.", she hissed, and then everything went quickly.

The woman kicked him in the small of his back and jerked on his arm so that it _cracked_. The man screamed. Another one too. David barely got to see the dog jump when blood was already streaming from its target's hand. Metal flashed in the corner of his eye suddenly and before he even realised that it was a jackknife one of the remaining men had whipped out, Snow White had already dodged his thrust gracefully, disarmed him and knocked him out with an umbrella-hit against his temple. Another quick move, another precise blow and all of a sudden David found himself surrounded by unconscious men on the ground.

With eyes as wide as an owl's he gaped at the young lady, who, impossibly enough, didn't seem distressed at all. Hell, she wasn't even out of breath! Almost leisurely she fixed her appearance, brushing some loose strands of her dark hair back into her ponytail and tucked at her suit.

"Are you alright?", she asked calm as a clock, though, only when she directed her questioning look at him did David realise that she hadn't addressed the dog which was walking over to her now, its mouth still dripping a little with blood.

"Um, I - I don't... I don't know..." It was embarrassing, but it was all he managed to bring forth.

For Snow White it seemed to be a sufficient reply, though, as she just gave him another one of her beautiful smiles, crouching down to scratch the happily panting dog's neck and complementing him on his good work. It was such an absurd thing to do, not that she was treating her pet like an actual person, but... that she did it within a circle of men she'd knocked out. In just a few seconds. With an umbrella. With a_ fucking umbrella_!

"Who _are_ you?!" His sudden outburst made David himself wince, whereas the woman remained her calm self, merely raised a brow at him.

Standing up, she said: "Why, _you_ should tell _me_."

"Me? Why me?"

"It's _your_ dream after all." She winced, as if something startled her, and cupped her face with her hands. "Oh dear, I'm not supposed to tell you that!" She turned to the dog. "And you didn't even _try_ to stop me!" The dog gave a bark, which made the woman visibly relax.

David, on the other hand, didn't relax at all. The whole concept of relaxation seemed so incredibly far-fetched right now, that it was utterly impossible for him to do anything but blink in confusion. "Wha-what?"

"Oh, see? He didn't hear it! Great!"

"I-I did hear what you said..."

"Oh."

"... but... but it doesn't make any sense. I can't be dreaming. This... this is just..." He glanced down at one of the men on the ground, the one with the bloody hand. "... too real..."

The woman didn't seem one bit impressed, however, simply shrugged his argument off. "It's a lucid dream."

"A... what?"

"A lucid dream. The kind that resembles reality in perception, mostly due to the dreamer's awareness of it being a dream."

"I am not aware of any of that."

She smirked. "Your subconscious is. You'd be surprised how much is lingering there beneath the surface of your thoughts, the things your subconsciousness can do when being unleashed. I mean..." One hand was on her hip, while the other gestured down her body. "... it generated _this_, so I dare say that your subconsciousness is pretty amazing." Then her vicious smile vanished all of a sudden, gave way to a frown. "Are you sure you're alright? You're as pale as a ghost."

Only now David noticed the dizziness spreading in his head, accompanied by his legs going weak. His face felt hot and cold at the same time, and black dots started to form before his eyes. "I-", he started to say, but there the Snow White was already at his side, supporting him and gently pulling him down to the ground, which instantly made him feel better.

"Put your legs up.", she said, but he waved it off.

"I'm fine, I..." He took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes. If this was really a dream, the woman might be gone when he opened them again. The prospect relieved him a little... after all he almost fainted in front of her. _Fainted_! Gosh, that was so embarrassing! "I'm sorry...", he murmured, sheepishly looking up at her again.

"What for?"

"That was... I swear I usually don't faint..."

She smiled softly. "I know, silly. I'm part of your subconscious mind, remember?"

"So... so this _is_ a dream?"

"Of course it is."

"Then... then I can do whatever I want?"

"Sure. Well, at least until you reach the next slow-wave sleep pha-" David leant forward to kiss her, so she quickly held the aerosol in her hand up to his face and sprayed, whereupon he slumped down immediately. "-aaaand there's it coming already!"

As cautious as can be, Victoria leant him back against the wall, paused for a second to check if the anaesthetic didn't show any unexpected repercussions and, then, turned to Harry. "That was exceptionally close, wasn't it?", she sighed, rummaging about the boy's pockets. "That's the... What? The fourth time that happened already? I don't get it; why do they all want to kiss a dream figure?" From the corner of her eye, she saw Harry cock his head, making her glare at him. "I _don't_ do that! Stop looking at me like that!" He didn't, though, just kept communicating with her through stares. "It happened one single time and- Oh, shut up..." Her hand found the wallet it had been looking for, which, fortunately, even contained a driver's licence, making time-consuming deductions of where this boy might live redundant... the whole drag-to-the-car action, on the other hand, not.

"The down sides of being a secret hero...", Victoria whispered and buckled down to work.

* * *

_6th October, 1999_. The newspaper's content had been the primary reason why she'd halted at this kiosk, though, the date now struck her before anything else did. After all it was the proof that it had indeed already been a month since she'd been turned down by Kingsman, a month since her breakdown in front of their shopwindow and a month since her decision to do a Kingsman's deeds nonetheless. Well, to some degree at least. She did satisfy most criteria to do so: she's got the skills, the attitude, the armour, the weapon and a partner for more complex situations.

Judging from the look on his brown spotted dog face back when she'd umboxed Galahad's gift, his association with it had been akin to hers: A Kingsman suit must be worn by a Kingsman. Thus, it was her responsibility to play this part. Everything else would dishonour this extraordinary piece of fashion, wouldn't it?

The first time she'd worn it, she'd confined herself to patrolling through lesser pleasant districts of London in hopes of catching some ordinary criminals in the act, since, even though she might be equipped like a Kingsman, she was far from being as coordinated. More than once had she considered tracking Alasdair down after all, making him use his brilliancy and technical affinity to become her personal Merlin. Oh, what a team they'd form! Him, the master of information and coordination, and her, the knight who executed most dangerous missions. Together they'd be virtually invincible, not official but truly _worthy_ Kingsmen... However, she wouldn't search him out. If he wanted to see her, he'd gotten in touch with her by now. But, as it seemed, he still needed space and time, understandibly so, and Victoria wouldn't interfere with that. So, for the time being, she would work alone... save her animal partner.

Harry was still a young dog, not fully grown, yet he'd already proved so valuable a companion that Victoria barely went anywhere without him. His incredible speed had been what stopped the last of the burglers they'd prevented from robbing the house of a family that was on holiday; his good nose had been what eventually led them to that small drug ring's leader; and his bite force had been what kept one of those hooligans yesterday away from her... and what made it into the papers.

"Look, Harry,", Victoria whispered, crouching down to show him the short article with the heading '_Fans in Hospital_'. "his hand needed twenty stitches. They reported having been attacked by a group of the other team's fans and their pit bull." As reply he growled, which made her pat his head with a smile. "Yes, I know. No pit bull could ever be a patch on you." Handing a pound to the saleswoman, she tucked the rolled-up paper in the waistband of her running pants, put Alasdair's headphones back on and, to the rhythm of Whitesnake's _Here I Go Again_, the two of them continued their run.

As strange as this city and its habitants had appeared upon her return, now Victoria felt like she had settled back in. As she was jogging down her usual route, she delighted in every detail of those familiar surroundings with a soft smile on her face, sunlit old buildings, golden trees in small parks, ordinary people who would never guess her to be a trained spy, just like those in the gym she'd signed up for. The faces they made when she first particupated in martial arts training had been so pricelessly hilarious!

Yes, it just felt good to be back, especially with carrying out her new profession, though, it was doubtful if it could actually be called like that with that little money she earned through bounties. Since she still aspired to be a spy, she naturally never let herself be the one to deliver the wanted persons she found, but hired some random scapegoat every time for half of the mostly tenous bounty. After all, a lady's name as well as a gentleman's should not appear in the papers more than thrice. Thus, as bounty hunting in London exclusively didn't pay a living, she'd still have to come up with an idea how to make use of her skills properly. For today, however, Victoria was more than content with knowing that somewhere there was a boy named David going about his business, thinking about this peculiar dream he'd had last night.

Mouthing the lyrics to the song, Victoria entered her brothers' apartment hopping from one foot to the other, as she was still full of energy. After months of extensive Kingsman training, two hours in the gym and one hour of running felt like a visit to a spa, even though the maximum sleep time she could gain was five hours a day. Restrained laughter coming from the living room eventually made her calm down, though, and curiously go after the cause that lay behind it.

She found her brothers jammed together in front of a computer screen, giggling away like school girls.

"What's so funny?", Victoria asked, not able to avoid grinning too.

In an instant they had their slightly widened eyes directed at her and one finger to their mouths, silently ordering her to stay quiet while beckoning her over to see for herself what caused their amusement.

The screen was showing a relatively spacious and modern looking office furnitured with two desks, a broad shelf filled with files and electronical devices and a white board, and in the middle of it stood a charlady wearing the most perplexed expression on her face.

"Look!", Charlie whispered, then pushed a button on the key board in front of him and spoke into the microphone next to it: "Want to play?"

The middle-aged woman winced, looking around in confusion, then checked under one of the desks, just to end up looking around again, which made Victoria's brothers burst out laughing. Shaking, Nick held up his index finger, which carried a tiny grey thing on its tip.

"We were developing this mini-speaker/-microphone for months now, you know, for journalists, politicians and the police, and now we wanted to test it, and, oh boy, it's so mUCH FUN!" The two young men kept laughing so hard, they had to clutch to their belly, whereas Victoria just put her arms to her hips, scowling.

"That's mean!", she said. _And useful_, she thought.

So many new possibilities regarding crime fighting could present themselves, in case she managed to smuggle such a device into a police station, or even better, into the office of some high ranked MI6 agent, or... even better...

"No, it's fun!", Nick insisted, gesturing towards the microphone Charlie had spoken into earlier. "Here, try for yourself!"

Victoria hesitated before leaning over. Her brothers fell quiet again and Charlie pressed the same button as before. In the creepiest low pitched voice she had to offer, Victoria breathed: "... You missed a spot."

The lady jumped with fright and ran out, screaming, leaving the Norwood family cracking up.

* * *

Brood parasites was what teachers in school had taught them as a term related to cuckoos. Laying their eggs in other birds' nests, they saved labour in a way Victoria thought herself unable to make use of. However, she'd be a fool if she wouldn't grasp the opportunity of letting Kingsman unknowingly provide her with information about criminals, which placing this mini-microphone in some hidden spot in their headquarters above the Kingsman shop in Savile Row most definitely entailed. As close observation revealed now, though, this constituted a fairly difficult task.

Naturally, it wasn't as secured as the fortress their headquarters in the countryside had posed - after all, one of Kingsman's premises was that noone expected super-trained spies in a tailor shop - and yet Victoria spotted hidden cameras everywhere around Savile Row, especially beneath the windows of that room with the not so 'Round Table' Galahad had led her into during her first meeting with Arthur. This was due to there not being any motion detectors affixed to them as it was the case with every other potential entrance here, probably because of practical reasons. Otherwise, they'd constantly have to turn the sensors off in summer when they wanted to let some fresh air in, wouldn't they?

Anyway, Victoria had to find another way in, since manipulating the cameras in any way, which Merlin would surely be able to realise in a matter of seconds, would raise too much suspicion within Kingsman, and now that she was actually not monitored anymore - it had stopped after a mere week, indicating a flattering level of trust... or Galahad's urging perhaps - Victoria certainly didn't want to lose this kind of freedom again. Besides, they may not even spare her just because she was known to them, but probably treat her like any other intruder... a surely not desirable treatment. So, no to direct exposure to cameras, which left her with only one highly risky, but reasonable option.

Pulling her cap down low into her face - even though that might not even be necessary now that it was pitchest night and she was wearing that blond wig and contour-changing makeup - Victoria stood in front of _Kingsman &amp; Sons_ with the group of small-time crooks she'd recently befriended for this purpose.

"I still don't get it.", one of the group of seven, including Victoria, raised an objection to what felt like the twentieth time, which really started to get on Victoria's nerves. "Why don't we just rob that jeweller? I mean, this is a fucking tailor! What are we supposed to get from a tailor?"

Victoria sighed. "I already told you, stupid, they got jewelry in there too, but the suits are worth much more. The black market's full of people buying stuff they believe their favourite star wore on a premier or somethin'. Besides, robbing a tailor is surely much easier than a jeweller, I mean, they're not expecting anyone to do that-"

"Because it's dumb..."

"- because noone's done it before, stupid. I mean, they surely got some fancy alarm system, but not the same jewellers have. We just have to be quick."

The leader of the group, a beanpole of a man, grinned down at her. "Told ya the girl's smart. Alright, you and you keep watch. Shout when the cops're coming. You others grab whatever you can, as fast as you can, you get me?"

Everyone gave him a nod, whereupon they already got into position, two of them at one end of Savile Row each, the others up the stairs at the entrance door. Uneasiness krept into Victoria's mind at the sight of the leader producing a crowbar from his gym bag, though, she swallowed it down, concentrated on her goal. With both hands wrapped around it, he held the crowbar up, and then drove it between door and wall with such force that it didn't need much more to crack it open. Right at the contact a shrill sound rang out, which seemed to be even louder inside the shop.

"Quick, quick, quick!", the leader shouted over it, as he and his colleagues frantically packed everything that was not nailed down into their bags, not noticing Victoria scurrying past them.

She ran up the stairs at the back of the room, down the corridor to the large double door, where she knelt down, taking two hairpins from her wig to pick the lock. It took her two seconds longer than it normally did, but eventually there was a *_click_* and the doors swung open.

The usually forest green walls shone in a silvery grey from the moonlight streaming through the windows on the left, which still left much to be desired in illuminating the rest of the room. Mere silhouettes of the dressers and the objects placed on them were discernible in the blackness of the night, the large mahogany table in the middle lightly shimmering on the side facing the windows, while the other just formed a great black spot stretching from entrance to the far back of the room, which was exactly where Victoria was heading now.

As innovative as her brother's mini-mic was in size, its radius of recording was rather small, meaning that she had to place it somewhere near to where information was being uttered and where else but around Arthur would that be more the case? Crouching down, Victoria cautiously placed the tiny device at the bottom of the backmost chair, when suddenly shouting drowned the alarm signal, not of the two watchers. No, it was the others downstairs, shouting and screaming across each other as if being caught, as if being _attacked_, as if... a Kingsman had just arrived through the underground transport system.

Victoria cursed, finished affixing the mic and hurried towards one of the windows to scram before the agent could find her up here. She cursed again upon finding it locked. The sound of rapid steps on the stairs outside kept her from picking it. He was coming.

What should she do now? Where should she go? Should she smash the window? Should she face him, escape him? She was quick but Kingsmen were too.

Steps in the corridor. Victoria ran to the chimney opposite the windows, jumped up inside it, spread her limbs and like this she held herself above the ground, hopefully invisible for the eyes of the man entering.

He audibly lowered his pace, crept through the room in a soft-footed manner. Even with her extraordinary perception skills it was hard to tell where he was exactly, especially since she needed to concentrate on making her breathing inaudible, which was virtually impossible considering the supreme efforts she was making.

Her own weight pulled on her arms, her muscles began to tremble from extreme tension. Her whole body was screaming at her to at least change the position, maybe with her back against the brick wall, but she couldn't do that. Not without attracting the Kingsman's attention... who stepped right in front of the chimney now.

Victoria ground her teeth, stared down at the man's shoes, mentally preparing for seeing a face appear there as well. Whoever it belonged to - irregardless of whether that was someone wonderful such as Galahad - she'd have to kick at it, buy herself time to dart past him, destroy the window and finally escape.

But the face never came. Instead there was the faint sound of police sirens, making the Kingsman pause for the blink of an eye, then he hastened back the way he'd come from. Only when she heard him hurrying down the stairs, Victoria slowly let herself down.

She allowed herself one quiet groan, a short but deserved break for her arms. Rubbing her face, she eventually pulled herself back together, sneaked to the window and picked the lock. Before she climbed out, she drew her cap down low over her face again. Unlike the mini-mic under Arthur's seat, the cameras in this alley would catch little to no information about her.


	38. Fight the Rising Odds

**_Author's Note: Just wanted to let you know that you can expect updates coming more regularly now (holidays yeeeeah :D )_**

**_Please enjoy, Ladies and Gentlemen, and don't forget to review!_**

* * *

**Fight the Rising Odds**

"_Approaching destination_."

It was surprising how even a short remark like that could trigger such harsh feelings within her, but she just couldn't help it: every single time Horace Whitehall's voice rang out from the computer Victoria stopped doing the jigsaw puzzle in front of her to swallow down the anger rising within her. She didn't know him personally, indeed, but with all those instances Alasdair had told her about, all those times her friend's father had mistreated him, it appeared sheer impossible to be sympathetic to this man. Still, she hoped for this mission to be accomplished, of course, not least because of the other voice Mr. Whitehall's was accompanied by.

"_I've never seen a nuclear power plant from the inside before. Maybe I should take a fuel rod as a souvenier… Don't look at me like that, I'm just kidding. I'm trying to— Oh, forget it._"

"Poor Galahad, hm?", Victoria murmured, grinning down at the slumbering pointer at her feet.

Why such a serious man like Horace Whitehall would choose him of all Kingsmen to accompany him here was a complete mystery to her. Perhaps he'd been the only one available, or the closest one. In any case, Whitehall _had_ asked for him specifically, though, when he'd discussed the mission with Arthur earlier this morning.

According to him, there have been several attacks on Whitehall Inc, ranging from cyber attacks to a break-in in the central offices last week. At first it hadn't bothered him too much — just as Alasdair had told her, his father didn't seem particularly interested in his company at all, left all the work to his supervisory board — as business in the energy industry was prone to offences by rivals anyway. This time, however, the regular police had failed finding the people responsible, he'd told Arthur. This was a stranger case than usual. Or so he made his superior believe to be his motives in deigning to play a part in business affairs, at least.

Victoria suspected other reasons behind it, rather those of the pride-driven kind. After all, these attacks were directed at _his_ company, a _Kingsman_'s company. He couldn't let those responsible slip, even if those attacks would have been completely harmless. What would his colleagues think? If he didn't take action, his good reputation would be lost. Perhaps this was why he asked for one of his colleague's support in examining his company's nuclear power plant the hacking attacks had revealed to be those people's target: to bestow a flavour of general importance to this actually private matter.

If her speculations were true, Arthur, listening from his 'Round Table'-room right now, didn't get any of it. Throwing in a comment every now and then, the organisation's head seemed absolutely relaxed... and absolutely unaware of being bugged.

When Victoria had finished setting the microphone's software up on the computer in her room, she'd anxiously been waiting to hear someone search the 'Round Table'-room and find the mic, but noone ever came. _Why would Kingsman anyway_, she'd thought afterwards. After all, Victoria'd made sure this incident looked like nothing but a burglary to them. The only thing they might fear is that those small-time crooks had caught something, some detail that, under highly improbable circumstances, could lead to their exposal, which in turn had made Victoria fear for being exposed herself. Owing to the surveillance camera in the alley she'd fled into and her lack of believe in there being anything like honour amongst thieves, Victoria knew that Kingsman was searching for the one burglar that got away. Indeed, the description those young criminals could provide them with was fairly inaccurate — they'd experienced her as a blond, poor girl with a Cockney accent — but Kingsman knew about her acting skills, not least because they'd been part of the training. So, since she expected them to resume their tailing, Victoria'd abandoned her nocturnal patrolling and spent the following three weeks acting all normal, going to the gym, walking her dog, helping her brothers with some business, going out with friends... It'd been one hell of a boring time, but it had felt like an appropriate punishment. After all, with her little burglary act, she'd been promoting crime herself, despite having fought it for an entire month. Of course, she hadn't had a choice, and, of course, those boys would have robbed a jeweller anyway... and, yes, they'd been arrested as well... From this perspective, Victoria'd done just the ri—

_Shots_.

Victoria winced, staring at the computer with widened eyes.

"_It's a trap!_", Horace Whitehall shouted.

Galahad seemed just as distressed. "_I count six men — no, wait, seven — no — SHIT!_"

Harry was at his feet in the blink of an eye, barking at the computer.

"SSHT!", Victoria silenced him, rushing towards the speakers herself to turn up the volume and hear more clearly, but that was easier said than done, as the two Kingsmen and whoever was attacking them were shouting across each other.

"_They've got a sniper! Top left corner!_"

"_No clear line of fire!_"

"_They're behind us!_"

"_Let's_—"

And then the line's gone dead.

For a second that felt like an eternity not a sound was to be heard. Victoria stood there, holding her breath, staring at the computer's speakers, waiting... waiting...

"_Merlin, prepare_...", Arthur's voice cut through the silence eventually, but it faded as he was leaving the room apparently, prohibiting Victoria from understanding any of his plan towards this grave situation.

Would he send some Kingsmen to get their colleagues out of there? Would he go himself? And what was there to prepare? There was no time for great preparations, for assembling agents from wherever they may be, for mapping out attack strategies or for vastly equipping oneself! No, they would never get there in time...

But Victoria could.

Like a scalded cat she started to slip out of her pyjamas and into her Kingsman suit. Harry, all excited, trotted by her side as she finished, grabbed her umbrella and darted out of the room, anxious to move silently as to not wake any of her brothers, especially since she took their car keys before leaving the apartment. Hastening towards Nick's black Jaguar, she unlocked its doors and opened the nearest one for Harry. "Passenger seat.", she panted, got around the car to kick off its number plates and got behind the wheel herself. One belt across her sitting dog's chest, one across her own and she already put the key in the hole. The Jaguar roared to life and Victoria floored it.

* * *

Everything was silent around the plant. Located in the middle of nowhere, it was composed of a complex of various square buildings, one of which standing way taller than the others, but even that didn't show any sign of nocturnal activity... if it weren't for the guard patrolling around it.

Hiding behind a smaller building next to the big one, Victoria examined the man: He was wearing similar black garments as they did at Kingsman during some missions, a handgun was attached to his right thigh, and the upper half of his face was covered by a nightscope, making her scheme a little more challenging. When Harry barked from behind another house, making the guard look in that direction, her umbrella's stun bullet found its way to his temple nonetheless.

Looking around to not miss any other potential attackers, Victoria hurried towards the unconscious guard, took the gun from him and turned to Harry, who was just coming as well.

"Listen to me, Harry,", she began, pocketing a full magazine she found in the guard's belt. "you have to stay here and warn me if there's someone coming, do you understand?"

To confirm the dog let out a muffled bark.

Victoria smiled, kissed him between his darkness-defying amber eyes and hastened towards the entrance door closest to her. It was unlocked, which together with the pressure she was under enticed her into imprudence, but Victoria ignored the feeling, proceding as cautious as she was trained to do, with the gun always at the ready. Switches and warning labels were decorating the walls of the corridor-like anteroom it led to, as well as the hard hats that were hanging from them, but not a sign of any guards. Narrow stairs led up to a metallic door with a built-in window, which dim light was streaming from. Leaping several stairs at the time, Victoria climbed it, but she stopped abruptly when her eyes caught movement behind the small window.

Pressed against the wall, she waited for a few seconds before daring to peek through it.

Thanks to the window's size, she only got to see about half of the plant's main hall, but still it was sufficient to get an idea of her surroundings. Myriads of pipes, tanks and other metallic constructions occupied a large part of the hall, though it was difficult to make out any details, as the light shining through only came from the very back, an area out of sight to her. Everything else was clad in darkness. What was discernible however was some sort of tower straight ahead, which was connected to two footbridges running along the walls, each of which guarded. At least that explained the movement on the bridge this door led to. It was a shorter one, fortunately, so that there was space for only one man — the sniper who the Kingsmen had been attacked by, as she realised now. He was wearing the most bored expression, as he paced up and down, using his rifle like a cane in doing so. The opposite bridge carried more armed men — three or four, as far as she could see — making it a more difficult task to come up with a suitable plan.

Probability had it that wherever the light was coming from was the place where the Kingsmen were held — dead or alive — which meant that having a clear line of fire for that particular area was upmost priority. The connection between this footbridge and the tower in the middle would be a reasonable option, as one would not only have an all-round view of the entire hall, but also be partly protected by the tower.

But how was she supposed to get there without being caught? It certainly proved immensely difficult to sneak past the sniper. Disabling him also posed a risk, as that might catch the attention of the guards opposite to them. _Unless we stay under cover of the tower's shadow.._.

Stuffing the handgun inside her waistband, Victoria pressed against the wall, only peeking through the window, waiting for the sniper to be fully engulfed by darkness. Silently, she slipped through the door, sneaked up to the man from behind and, before he had the chance to turn around and step into the light again, she caught him in a rear naked choke.

He jerked, suddenly wide awake, let go of the rifle to tug at the forearm constricting his brain's blood supply. Preventing it from falling down noisily, Victoria quickly pressed the weapon against his body with her knee, whilst slowly pulling them both to the ground. She wrapped her legs around him, gained full control of his body, barred him from any abrupt moves. He struggled and struggled, tried so hard to wrestle free, but Victoria didn't loosen her grip, tightened it even further like a constrictor. She felt the man's muscles going limp against her, until he slackened completely.

The last thing he must have heard was his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, and, as that move demanded quite some effort, this was what Victoria had heard as well. Now, however, that her body calmed down again, other sounds filled her mind. The sounds of voices, or rather one voice.

Rapidly, but still as cautious as possible in order to avoid making any sounds, Victoria rolled the unconscious sniper off of her, grabbed his rifle, sneaked to the middle of the tower connection bridge, and, finally, she had perfect view on _them_.

Having their mouths, hands and feet duct-taped, the Kingsmen knelt in one of the few spaces clear from tanks and pipes. Galahad's usually styled hair was ruffled, just as his colleague's, which was so fair of colour that it would have been a truly simple matter to identify him as Alasdair's father, even if Victoria hadn't already met him at some of her mother's charity dinners. He also matched his son in height, though, while her friend had rather delicate and gentle features, his father had a hard face, one of the kind that might intimidate opponents by just a single look. Of this, however, the five men surrounding them, levelling their guns at their heads, didn't show any sign of. Another one, the one she'd heard speaking before, was pacing up and down in front of them with a mobile phone held to his ear. Probably the leader of this group.

Usually, such high numbers of opponents wouldn't be too much of an obstacle for a Kingsman, let alone _two_ — Victoria'd fought her way through that terrorist nest as well, after all — but first of all had they been ambushed, and secondly, in contrast to the terrorists she'd had to face, those men seemed to have enjoyed some form of military training as well. So many of them could only be beaten if being caught off guard themselves; a part Victoria would be happy to play.

Pressing the rifle's butt against her shoulder, she aimed right at the leader's head. In a matter of seconds one after the other of those black dressed men would fall, the Kingsmen would be rescued... But what if they had an entirely different plan? What if they hadn't freed themselves already due to their scheme of finding out more about their attackers? What if they were just waiting for the right moment to strike? It bugged Victoria that that thought hadn't crossed her mind earlier. It didn't really matter, though, since she hadn't started shooting yet anyway. So, no plan frustrated,_ if _that actually was the Kingsmen's plan.

Either way, Victoria kept the leader targetted, readying herself to pull the trigger as soon as he gave away some crucial information.

"You didn't tell us how good they were.", he growled into the phone, his voice rich with some kind of German accent. "They killed four of us, two are badly wounded. You—" He exchanged a look with his colleagues, his lips forming a straight line. "Yes... Yes, Sir... I asked them, but they wouldn't answer." His eyes darted from one Kingsman to the other, though only one returned the look, as Galahad rather examined their surroundings. Behind his attentive gaze Victoria saw an escape plan forming in his mind, one she'd hopefully wouldn't disrupt completely by her presence.

"Definitely.", the leader said eventually, continuing his staring contest with Mr Whitehall. Perhaps the Kingsman was provoking their opponent in such a blunt way on purpose, in order to divert his attention from his scheming colleague. Or perhaps he was just behaving in such a defying manner as a form of commanding the respect he believed was due to him. From all Victoria knew about that man, the latter option didn't even seem too unlikely.

"Alright, one second." Taking a quick step towards him, the leader held the phone out to the still unblinking Kingsman. "Boss wants to talk to you." As if interpreting his raised brow, he added: "Don't worry, you won't need to talk yourself."

Even when the device was brought to his ear, Mr Whitehall maintained eye contact, until suddenly he _did_ break it, abandoning his defiant posture and staring into space with an utterly blank expression. Victoria couldn't quite imagine what this conversation might be about, considering how unilateral it was. They couldn't parley like that, couldn't question the Kingsman about anything. Perhaps this 'Boss', whoever it may be, just wanted to share his brilliancy, uncover how he or she managed to set up two super-trained agents, as so many 'villains' liked to boast. Maybe he or she was just revealing that they'd planted a mole in the organisation, or one of their own, a Kingsman, betrayed them. As highly probable as it was that Victoria's imagination was just running riot at the moment, Mr Whitehall would surely have some interesting things to say about that stranger on the phone as soon as they've gotten out of here.

How the opponents' leader knew that the conversation was over, Victoria had no clue, but apparently he did somehow, as he took the device away from the still gazing Kingsman and held it to his own ear again. He paused for a moment, said "Yes, Sir.", hung up and shot Horace Whitehall in the face.

Victoria caught her breath.

The Kingsman dropped dead, his blond hair soaking in the pool of blood that formed around his head, whilst the leader pointed his gun at Galahad.

Her bullet hit him right in the temple.

Firing at those on the opposite side with the handgun in her left and at those on the ground level with the rifle in her right, Victoria dashed across the bridge, jumped of the handrail at its end and landed with her foot crashing into the face of one of the remaining five. Shouting erupted in the hall. Victoria smashed the rifle's hilt into an attacker's forehead, shot another's finger off, let the weapon drop to dodge the blow of a third and used his own momentum to swing him around and take him as a human shield for all the bullets showering down at her and Gallahad. One hit her in the shoulder when she grabbed the knife on the man's hip, but the Kingsman suit shielded her from fatal wounds. In one quick motion she cut Galahad's ankles free and threw the knife into the fingerless one's chest, which almost gave the one she'd kicked in the face the opportunity to attack her, if it weren't for the Kingsman kicking him off his feet. Victoria shot him in the head and the two ran for cover behind a tank.

Galahad, having freed his wrists when Victoria hadn't been looking, tore the tape from his mouth. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"Long story, but I think the more important question right now is: how the hell do we get out of here?!"

"So you're here on your own?"

"Yes."

"Pity." He peeked around the tank. "Well, alright, I think I know a way out. There's a door at ten o'clock, roughly a hundred feet from here. Let's try it there. Our weaponry?"

"I've got a handgun with half a magazine left and my umbrella."

"Good, I'll take that one."

"No, you won't."

"What?"

"I like the umbrella better."

"Me too."

"Well, tough luck."

"Victoria, it's actually mine."

"You gave it to me!"

"I didn't say you can keep it forever."

"Doesn't matter. For now it's mine."

"Says who?"

She looked him dead in the eye. "The one who's rescuing your bloody arse."

"Good point.", he admitted, taking the gun from her hand. "Alright, here's the plan: They're regrouping down here, so we'll have to expect fire to come from both above and the front. We'll have to be quick to get to the door. You lead. Try to shield us both, and I'll fend them off, understood?"

Victoria nodded, put the umbrella up and they dashed off. Immediately, they were greeted by a barrage of gunfire. Even all the strength in her thighs couldn't prevent her being pushed back, so, in hopes of confusing their attackers and buying themselves more time, she activated the umbrella's SMOKE-function, filling the space between them and their opponents with thick white clouds. The hail of bullets stopped, the men in black started coughing and shouting, whilst Victoria and Galahad slipped through the door into a similar corridor as before and rushed to the closest exit.

"Shit!", they both cursed at the sight of a guard standing outside, his machine gun directly pointing at them. Then there was barking all of a sudden that turned into the guard's own screaming upon Harry biting down hard on his arm. Galahad seized the chance and shot him in the face.

"Our car should be right up there, let's go!", he shouted, running on to the right.

The three of them raced down along the building, the car the Kingsmen had used to come here finally coming in view, when suddenly a door to their right burst open and a dozen men in black streamed out. Before they noticed them, Galahad's gun was already raised. He pulled the trigger. It only clicked.

All at once the men spun around, levelled their weapons at them—

—and the truck sent them flying.


	39. Raison d'Être

**_Author's Note: Obviously I wasn't able to live up to my own expectations and didn't update as regularly as I thought. Iiiiii am incredibly sorry for that! There was a load of surprise-work waiting for me, plus, I admit I had an awful lack of motivation :( Buuuuut now there's the new trailer, I finally got to finish reading the comic (shame on me for not having finished earlier, SHAME *bim*) aaaaaand YOUR REVIEWS, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR REVIEWS, I'M JUST SENDING YOU A MENTAL HUG (if hugs by strangers are not your thing, then feel free to feel... I dunno... waved at?)_**

**_Now, please enjoy, Ladies and Gentlemen, and keep throwing those motivation-bombs called reviews :D_**

* * *

**Raison d'Être**

Things went off so fast, Victoria barely caught it all.

The truck - it was more of a SWAT van she realised now - hit the brakes, a man jumped out and finished the few ones not killed by the crash with the machine gun in his hands. He was wearing a brown windowpane suit, combined with a pink striped tie, a combination she hadn't seen on him before, however, Victoria still knew who it was even without him facing him. _Arthur_.

Merlin, who'd apparently been driving, quickly joined him, but there wasn't much work left after the crash and his superior's doing, until, eventually, there was no shouting, no weapons levelled at them. The enemy was beaten.

"Excellent timing.", Galahad said in such a casual tone, you'd almost think they had _not_ been amidst a fight just moments ago.

Arthur turned around and pointed his gun at him. No, not him. _Her._

In the blink of an eye, Victoria let the umbrella fall to the ground, holding her hands up above her head. With a sharp „Sht" she kept a snarling Harry from lunging at Kingsman's head, even though every fibre of her being was on red alert as well. The same sensation must have seized Galahad, as he immediately positioned himself between them.

„What the hell are you doing?!", he snapped at them, the relief that had occupied his features just a second ago vanished completely.

„Stand aside, Galahad."

„She saved my life!"

„Stand. Aside." His face was hard as stone. „That's an order."

The tension in the air was almost palpable, so, in hopes of easing it before anyone could do something incredibly stupid, Victoria stepped forward from behind Galahad. „It's alright, it's alright."

Arthur nodded towards the Kingsman next to her. „Merlin."

Her former instructor only hesitated for the shortest of moments before already pointing his machine gun at Galahad, probably to ensure that he couldn't resume his role as protector once more. The stern look Galahad gave him thereupon spoke volumes.

She continued speaking fast but with a strong voice. „It's alright, Arthur, I know what this looks like. You're wondering if I was in cahoots with this lot, otherwise, how would I have known about this ambush, about the entire situation."

„Stop pointing out the obvious and give me answers." He tighened his grip on the gun. „Now."

„I was spying on you." It made her proud somehow that she managed to say it in such a matter-of-fact tone, without letting any of the fear pumping through her veins show. „I staged the burglary at Kingsman &amp; Sons three weeks ago, in order to plant a mic in the conference room."

"I should have known it was you. You are the most persistent mosquito I've ever had the bad luck to encounter."

"Why did you do that?", Galahad's voice came from the side, though Victoria chose to maintain eye-contact with his superior.

"I thought I might get the chance to apply the skills Kingsman taught me most efficiently thereby."

A small sneer spread on Arthur's lips. "In other words: you wanted to steal our jobs."

_If you hadn't bee so foolish as to reject me, they'd be my jobs anyway_, she almost said, but Victoria bit her tongue. She'd need to choose her words extremely carefully now. "It was wrong, indeed, and I apologise for the trouble I caused, but I don't regret it. If I hadn't listened in on you tonight, there'd be more than one dead Kingsman."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Merlin's shoulder sink a bit, while Arthur, for the first time since he'd targetted her, averted his gaze from Victoria to look at Galahad. "Where is he? What happened?"

"He's inside." Her former mentor did his best to conceal it, but she could still pick out sadness in his voice. "I'll tell you what happened on the way back. We've already wasted too much time. Let's clean up this mess here and go."

The moment of silence that followed stretched to a felt eternity. Arthur's eyes wandered back to Victoria, down to Harry, back to her, and only after he'd visibly taken a deep breath he put the gun down.

* * *

"Maybe it's exactly what she wants."

The man's green face was lined with sternness and so were those of most Kingsmen at the long table, only visible through his glasses, but Galahad knew that this did not necessarily imply the same disapproval Tristan was displaying. Currently accomplishing missions all around the globe, some of his colleagues have surely not been too pleased about being called to an unscheduled conference, for some even in the dead of night... or their seriousness stemmed from an entirely different matter.

While Arthur'd been explaining the facts of the case that led to this meeting, Galahad had been completely inactive, just stared down at the empty Whisky glass before him. He could still feel the shock linger in his bones, the powerlessness when watching his colleague being shot... a sight he feared he would never be able to forget... Now was not the time to wallow in self-pity, however. Galahad needed to concentrate. After all, his former mentee's future was at stake here.

"Of course it's what she wants,", he joined the discussion eventually. "it's what she's been training for for the better part of a year."

"That's not what I meant"

"That you have made plain earlier." He gave Tristan an unblinking, sharp look. "You are accusing Victoria of having staged the rescue, isn't that so? You think it's her plan to infiltrate Kingsman on grounds of some silly thoughts of revenge for being rejected. But, with all due respect, this theory is a preposterous allegation. I know this woman and under no circumstances would she ever desire Kingsman to come to severe harm."

"Except for the time she spied on us, you mean?"

"I said _severe_ harm. Snatching some minor jobs from under our noses can hardly be classified as that, a nuisance at best. If you're truly afraid that one single person has the ways and means of driving Kingsman out of the market - and such a thriving one as crime prevention too - I fear for your sense of reality."

The man straightened his shoulders, held his head high and turned to addressing the other Kingsmen exclusively - a genteel and subtle way of telling people to go fuck themselves. If it weren't for the grievous circumstances, Galahad might find delight in this ridiculous manner.

"If she had been there to help, why didn't she intervene earlier and let one of us die instead?", Tristan said, raising his brows high. "It makes no sense... except she did it on purpose."

"Arthur already presented you with the results of our interrogation and, as he told you, we classed her motives as comprehensible."

Tristan shrugged, still not deigning to look at Galahad. "In case she actually told the truth."

"You are putting our interrogation skills into question then?"

That made the Kingsman lock eyes with him after all, though his glare irritated Galahad more than he'd expected. "No. But perhaps we ought to put your integrity into question, Galahad."

"I beg your pardon?"

"It made sense defending her when she was still your candidate. Now, however, she poses a danger to the organisation and yet you side with her. I'm asking you: Who are you truly loyal to - Kingsman or this _girl_?"

All eyes focused on him, but his own remained fixed on Tristan's solely.

Galahad was used to ideas deviating from tradition going unheeded, to beging rebuked for rather unconventional methods and decisions... but never has anyone had the temerity of doubting his devotion for Kingsman. This organisation was what his whole life had revolved around for more than a decade now. It was paramount, his raison d'être... And yet Tristan acted as though those years and years of service, of which Galahad had even spent a part teaming up with him, had never existed.

As calm as he'd intended to be during this conference, Galahad now found himself seething with rage on this inside. On the outside his expression was blank, apart from his eyes that looked daggers into his fellow Kingsman, as he spoke in an almost casual tone: "I wonder if you'd dare to be so cheeky if you were physically here too."

Tristan narrowed his eye's to slits. "Are you calling me a coward?"

"Well, it _is_ easy to talk shit about someone when staying beyond this someone's fist's reach."

"That's _enough_!" Arthur's voice boomed through the room like a lion's roar, catching the attention of all those present in an instant. His eyes darted from one Kingsman to another as his expression reflected how done he was with their quarrel. "I will not suffer such childish behaviour amongst my agents.", he said, his voice sharp like a blade, and turned to Tristan. "Our Kingsmen's loyalty is beyond dispute. Neither are any of our skills debatable." Then he looked at Galahad. "Victoria's as well, however. As you were so kind to point out, Galahad, she _had_ received the same training any of us had. Taking that into account, we can indeed not be one-hundred percent sure that she told us true."

"She did spy on us after all...", Gareth added thoughtfully.

Next to him Lamorak let loose a sound that ranged between a sigh and a hiss. "We can't be sure what she's been doing with the information she gathered thereby, can we? I say she's lying about wanting to steal our jobs. I say she's been spying on us for someone else, selling our secrets to the highest bidder. I say she-"

"You're saying a whole lot for someone who couldn't even recall her name an hour ago.", Lancelot cut in, which made Lamorak scowl at him so hard that his eyes almost disappeared in the shadow his large brow cast on them. The young Kingsman looked like he couldn't care less. "Two months ago Victoria was so close to becoming one of us. She has the skills, she saved one of us, she's willing... This conference should be redundant."

"What are you suggesting, Lancelot?"

Wearing an expression that screamed 'Isn't that obvious?' he waved toward the empty chair next to him. "We've got a vacant position. Give it to her already."

The statement might have conjured a smile on Galahad's face, if it weren't for the uproar it aroused. Kingsmen were talking all over each other, gesturing around. Some were arguing against Lancelot's proposition, others for it, loudest of all Lancelot himself. Galahad remained quiet, trying to figure out the best way to handle this situation.

Making Victoria a Kingsman did indeed make sense. She deserved it, had deserved it before and now more so. A months-long selection procedure could be avoided as well. However, Galahad wasn't sure if that was the best solution for Victoria herself. Entering an organisation where half its members opposed one's presence would definitely prove unpleasant. And what about the organisation itself? Would Kingsman go the extreme way and split into two factions, those who'd welcome change and those who'd defy it? No, that would never happen. Indeed, there's never been a comparable problem before, but they had had some conflicts of interest where they'd been similarly at strife and, irregardless of what decision they'd eventually arrived at, they've always managed to get together in the end. That may take some time in this case, but eventually they would all warm toward Victoria, or at least get used to her, especially since she would have the chance to prove herself in front of them.

"Bedivere,", Arthur spoke up again, silencing his inferiors in a matter of seconds. "you experienced her during a mission. Can you provide us with any useful details concerning her character?"

The stern-looking man shifted in his seat. "She does indeed have the skills of a Kingsman. A good fighter, decisive, has a gift for improvisation, an exceptionally keen perception... but wayward as well. Repeatedly, she disobeyed my and Galahad's orders. She _did_ have her reasons, indeed. It seems her main priority is and has always been shielding as many innocents as possible. That's one way to put it anyway. That she's just mad for playing the hero appears just as likely to me."

Lancelot rolled his eyes. "Oh, please! Don't act like this organisation isn't completely made up of men who just want to play the hero!"

"By men indeed."

"Not that again!"

"Alright, I'll put an end to this nonsense now.", Arthur extinguished the flame before it had the chance to spark. "The situation has been efficiently evaluated, arguments have been brought forth and now we are left with two options: we either make Victoria a Kingsman-" Some disapproving looks were exchanged. "-or we get rid of her, once and for all." Galahad straightened, interlacing his fingers as to not clench his fists. "We are going to decide on it by voting. You are either pro making her a Kingsman, or contra. I'll stay neutral in this election. Galahad, you may begin."

He looked up, spoke with as much determination as possible. "Pro."

Arthur gave him a nod and proceeded to the next agent.

One after the other they voted. Some replies came like a shot, other Kingsmen hesitated, but they did vote nonetheless. In the end, it was a draw of 4-4 that reached the last Kingsman, the one sitting opposite to Galahad, the one who'd remained quiet the entire time.

"Percival?"

Albert looked up, though, unlike the others not into Arthur's face, but Galahad's.

He hid his emotions well, his expression being completely blank, and yet it felt like the rookie was scanning him, as if trying to find the correct answer in his features. Galahad wondered if an encouraging look might be more effective in educing the "Pro" from him, but he decided against it since the boy, as far as he knew at least, had never been too susceptible to soft talk. This and the fact that Albert might let his past rivalry with Victoria play a role in his decision was why he now faced him with a face of stone.

He wouldn't dare to let his past harsh feelings towards Victoria gain the upper hand, would he? He wouldn't dare getting influenced by personal quarrels, he wouldn't dare condemn her as some kind of sick revenge. No, he wouldn't dare. _Don't you dare._

Then Percival rose to speak.

* * *

There was a clock on the mantelpiece, an beautiful antique piece made out of wood, but Victoria refused to look anywhere else but straight ahead. Her buttom was beginning to hurt despite the soft cushions beneath it and dawn was slowly edging off the dark outside. Apart from that Victoria had no indicators of how long she'd already been sitting here on this brown couch amidst the tailor's shop, stroking Harry who was peacefully slumbering next to her. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours... it was hard to tell with all these questions bustling about her mind, reinforced by the muffled sounds of some heated discussion led upstairs.

What were they arguing about up there? What was going to happen to her? Would she get rewarded for saving one of Kingsman's agents? Punished for having spied on them? Or for letting one of them die? Could she have possibly saved Horace Whitehall anyway? Perhaps, if she'd acted earlier... Why hadn't she though? If she'd just shot those men right away instead of waiting for them to give away anything, she might have saved both Kingsmen and Alasdair-

_Oh, Alasdair..._

He had no clue of what happened. He was still missing which meant that Kingsman either had to track him down or... or he'd have to learn of it by the news, which would be a horrible way of finding out about your own father's death. Indeed, they had been far from close, but he'd still been his father, and his only parent left. Alasdiar had lost his mother when he'd just been a child, now he became a complete orphan... And Victoria was partially to blame.

Relief washed over her when the door opening behind her interrupted her train of thought and Richard entered the room.

The young tailor's apprentice had come to start his early shift in the middle of her interrogation in one of the backrooms, looking all confused and slightly scared at the sight of them and the bloodstains Galahad's and her clothes were still covered in as they hadn't yet found the time to clean them, but he'd remained mute all the same. In this business it was a valuable trait to know when to hold one's tongue. And he'd maintained his silentness during and after Arthur had taken him outside, talking to him in a hushed voice. The boy had only nodded.

But not only did he refuse to speak, he didn't look at Victoria either, not once, which had soon made it plain to her that he'd been told not to communicate with her in any way. And all the while he'd gone about the morning business, sorting and decorating things, he'd obeyed. _Clever boy_, Victoria thought, even though some part of her wished he would slight the command. Chatting would make it easier to cope with these pestering thoughts of hers, with remorse, with fear, _Alasdair_...

Victoria stood so abruptly, it made Richard start with fright. With large blue eyes he stared at her, clutching to the long piece of cloth he's just been folding.

"I know you are not allowed to speak to me,", she began, carefully approaching him like a timid fawn. "but it strikes me as awfully rude to just sit here and watch you work. Please, Richard, let me be of assistance."

She gave him a soft smile, which instantly made the young apprentice avert his gaze... but he also took one step to the side, clearing space for her at the table before him.

"Thank you.", she muttered and buckled down to the task, folding with as much precision and caution she muster up with her tired hands, though it didn't take more than a few seconds that she saw Richard pause from the corner of her eye. He was looking at her work, his lips pressed together as though keeping himself from blurting something out. Victoria blinked, then sighed. "I'm doing it wrong, right?"

He didn't answer, got back to folding, but this time he took his time, stretching every step. Victoria nodded, copying his movements with her own hands, until the boy gave her a pleased smile and resumed his former speed.

She wasn't sure if it was the sort of assembly-line work itself or the sound of crinkling cloth sending tingles to her head, but after just a little while Victoria felt her eyelids getting heavier and her mind giving in to drowsiness. After all, the last round of sleep was almost a full day ago, and this night had indeed been more than stressful. No wonder her body cried for a break. And yet when steps on the stairs reached her ears, she suddenly was wide awake again.

With her heart in her mouth she positioned in the middle of the room, watching Arthur and Galahad descend. It was impossible to read their faces as they were both wearing a mask of neutrality, though, when Arthur shot Richard a glance, the boy understood immediately, left the shop and went down the stairs outside that led to the actual tailoring rooms. For a second Victoria considered following him, seize the moment of surprise and run, just in case Kingsman's punishment for her involved violence.

But she stayed where she was. Even if that was indeed their decision, she would at least want to hear them say it, maybe even apologise, especially Galahad... and then offer them a sample of what they missed out on. What she'd done wasn't worth going down without a fight. Arthur was the closest to her. If she was quick enough, and incredibly lucky for that matter, Victoria may be able to checkmate him. There was still Galahad, however, and both of them were certainly armoured beneath their suits as well...

Instead of devising some plan of escape, her weary mind betrayed her and just focused on hoping, hoping so hard that they would not try to harm her. Nonetheless, she couldn't help but tense up when, eventually, Arthur's eyes wandered from the young apprentice outside to hers.

His mask broke into a smile, he extended his hand and said: "Welcome to Kingsman, Gawain."


End file.
